


Rising Moon

by CreepE



Series: A Requiem for Dawn [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Akatsuki!Naruto, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu!Team 7, Dark, Dark Uzumaki Naruto, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepE/pseuds/CreepE
Summary: The time for the Akatsuki to begin collecting Tailed Beasts has come. Naruto continues to help them, but the more he sees, the more conflicted he becomes. He knows something needs to be done to change the ninja world, but is the Eye of the Moon Plan really the best way to do it? Meanwhile, Team 7 has joined the Anbu Black Ops, and after months of working against the Akatsuki, their most important mission is finally being enacted; find and stop Naruto Uzumaki, no matter what the cost.





	1. A Fox in Sheep's Clothing

Sakura pulled her mask down over her face, securing it, before nodding to Sasuke and Sai. Sai drew his katana from its sheath silently, the blade glinting silver in the moonlight, and waited as Sasuke went ahead. Sasuke’s steps were confident and so light they didn’t make a single pebble roll down the hill as he descended, Sakura and Sai in his wake.

The first guard didn’t notice—he was idly picking at his ear, examining a finger for wax—and Sai smoothly slid past Sasuke into the inky shadows of the night. With one swift blow from the hilt of his katana, Sai dropped the guard and caught him before he hit the ground, dragging the man into a nearby bush. Sasuke paused, searching the area intently, and then looked over his shoulder to give Sakura one small shake of his head, crimson glinting in the slits of his fox’s eyes.

Hm, so it was less heavily guarded than they’d been led to believe. Of course people would bluff about how heavily guarded this was; they wouldn’t want anyone thinking they could get in. If anyone else had decided to call the bluff, however, the man Anbu’s Team 7 was going to see could be killed with relative ease. For someone who seemed so cautious, this man was truly stupid.

Team 7 reached the bottom of the hill unchallenged, and Sakura held up one hand to get the boys to pause as she studied the bamboo gate rising up in a square around the massive house they were about to break into. There was only one entrance in if you didn’t want to hop the fence, and this place at least was as heavily guarded as rumours dictated. There were four guards—three women and a man, each searching the shadowy area near the fence with an alertness the previous guard hadn’t shown. These ones must’ve been shinobi guards, then.

Sasuke held up one finger, and Sakura and Sai paused while he strolled out into the clearing near the entrance as casual as anything. Two women and the man were immediately caught Sasuke’s genjutsu, their eyes widening in shock before they went boneless and slumped to the ground. The third woman must’ve known something about the Sharingan, though, because she avoided Sasuke’s eyes and opened her mouth to shout.

An ink snake that had been slithering through the shadows took care of that, lunging and wrapping itself around her mouth before she could even breathe in. In a panic, her eyes flickered to Sasuke’s, then rolled up in her head. Sakura, Sai, and Sasuke were already walking past her before she collapsed, their treads light as feathers. Sasuke tilted his head, the colour of his eyes deepening, and held up three fingers. Sakura nodded to show that she understood then took the lead, the two boys behind her.

They’d passed the bamboo gate and were now in a clearing bathed in moonlight, with no other guards outside. The house in front of them stretched up forebodingly, wrapped in an ochre deck that also looked like it was made of bamboo, and that deck was what they sprang onto now. Sakura set her hands against a sliding door and tilted two fingers towards the door’s track. An ink beast crawled into the track then dissolved into a puddle of black, which served as a lubricant when Sakura eased the door open, absolutely silent.

Standing near the door were three shinobi, two of them asleep and a third looking like he was getting there. Sakura helped him along with two senbon dipped in a fast-acting sedative, then hit both of his companions for good measure. They didn’t wake upon the impact, and they certainly wouldn’t be waking now.

Sakura sprung into the house and motioned for Sai and Sasuke to follow, sliding the door shut soundlessly behind them. Sasuke took the lead again, pausing every now and again to point out a nearby guard, which Sai or Sakura would take out with a well-timed blow. When they finally reached the door to the bedroom, leaving a trail of slumbering or otherwise incapacitated people in their wake, Sasuke shifted his mask his to make sure his eyes showed as completely as they could. Sai stepped back and gestured for Sakura to go ahead of him, and she stood directly behind Sasuke as he threw the door open.

The man they were after lay slumbering in a futon big enough to fit four people, his limbs stretched out to take up every inch of space. They were lucky to get him when his wife was away, but then, it was more than just luck, really. Sasuke strode across the room, easy confidence making him graceful as he took up position next to the drooling, snoring man. He looked up at Sakura with a question, and she answered it with a nod, shifting her own cat mask out of habit.

Sasuke reached out and seized the man by the jaw, his entire hand over the man’s mouth so that even after the man woke up and thought to scream, he wouldn’t be able to. And, oh, he wanted to scream when he awoke, staring into the full force of a Sharingan that could make Kages weep for mercy. He was too groggy, too unsuspecting at first, so he didn’t notice that he was in a genjutsu. Maybe he’d never figure it out—but if that was the case, he’d almost certainly have nightmares about what had happened for the rest of his life, always looking over his shoulder.

Sasuke had shown Sakura what he made her look like once, and she’d enjoyed the sight very much. Her mask looked like it was blending into her face, the feline features grinning madly as the mouth moved along with her words, blood running in a continuous scarlet streak from her mouth. Her hair seemed like it was made of Sakura petals, and they kept swaying disturbingly even if there was no wind, gentle yet sharp enough to cut. Wrapped around her limbs were chains—they looked slightly like the ones Naruto used, but Sasuke swore they weren’t—and the chains writhed constantly, winding themselves about whoever she spoke to.

Of course, there were no chains, blood, or petals. There was only the Demon Princess of Konoha’s genjutsu, and that sight was enough to strike fear into even the hardest hearts. The man before them now certainly didn’t have a hard heart, so the sight scared him so much he was halfway across the room at a speed even the three ninjas hadn’t expected. Sakura rolled her eyes beneath her mask and leapt, landing lightly in front of him as he scrabbled with the sliding door, whimpering.

“My lord,” she hissed, purposely making her voice rasp out ominously. The man in front of her forgot a door existed as he pressed his back against the wall, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to make a sign to ward off evil.

“Look at her,” Sasuke commanded sharply, already fed up with the man’s antics. He had little patience for people who were weak or cowardly.

“W-what d-do you w-want?” the man stammered out, his hands still raised before him. He absolutely refused to open his eyes, as if looking at Sakura would make the demonic illusion that much more real. Fair enough, Sakura supposed, since sight and phantom sensations were all she was.

“The Akatsuki,” Sakura murmured as she crouched down, stretching a hand out to lay it on top of the man’s head. He let out a startled cry and finally opened his eyes, tears rising up in them as he shook his head. She could see his indecisiveness about who was scarier, and she put one hand behind her back to signal Sasuke. The man in front of her squealed like a pig as Sasuke made it look like illusory chains were wrapping around him.

“I’ll talk! Please! J-just don’t—”

“Oh, it’s not information we want,” Sakura purred, squeezing his head with enough force that he was sure to have a bruise for each of her fingers in the morning. His lips trembled and tears spilled onto his cheeks as he looked at her, silently begging her to tell him what she wanted so he could offer it up in place of his life. What a weak, idiotic man. _This_ was the great Fire Daimyo, who caused problems for the entire Country of Fire and got involved in all sorts of ridiculous back-door decisions? Sakura was tempted to squeeze just a little tighter so that greedy mind of his came leaking from his ears.

“You’re going to stop hiring them,” Sakura said with a smile like death, knowing it would look exactly as threatening as she wanted it to with Sasuke’s interference. The man’s eyes flickered from Sakura to the two shinobi behind her, but all he’d see of them in the genjutsu was two ephemeral demons flickering in and out of existence. It was better he didn’t know that Konoha was involved, after all.

“B-but…” he began, trailing off when Sakura’s fingers got tighter and he probably heard the creak of his skull.

“Eyes on me,” Sakura laughed quietly, and the horrified man’s eyes turned back to her obediently. “You _will_ do this. If we hear you’re hiring out again, we’ll drag you down to the place we come from and all the riches in the world won’t be able to save your soul. The horrors you’ll witness and experience down there… oh, the _horrors_ , my lord, you can’t even begin to imagine.”

“No more Akatsuki!” the Fire Daimyo agreed perhaps a little too quickly. His voice was enthusiastic, eager to please, eager now that he knew there was a chance he could live. My, my. What a hasty little man he was. Sakura leaned down for him to get a close-up of her bloody cat’s mouth, fangs streaked with rustic stains old and new, and the man’s entire body froze as she brought her mouth to his ear.

“That’s correct; no more Akatsuki. Until then, though, these chains will remain wrapped around you as just a little reminder. If I hear you speaking one word of agreement to a single red cloud, we’ll have to chat again. And this time, it won’t be in the comfort of your own home. These chains follow me wherever I go, and all it’ll take is a tiny… little… _tug_.”

At the last word, Sasuke stepped forward and Sakura could sense a change in the genjutsu. She wondered what sensation Sasuke would project for Hell, but then she decided that maybe she didn’t want to wonder about that much longer. The Fire Daimyo screamed in agony, his eyes snapping shut as he began to roll about the floor, tearing at his clothes and beating at them like they were full of flames. Sasuke watched impassively, and Sakura allowed him a solid minute of this before she signalled for him to stop. He did, although gradually.

The Fire Daimyo was left in a drooling mess on the floor, snot, tears, and saliva mixing into the puddle his head lay in. His eyes rolled and twitched spasmodically, and Sakura knew they’d maybe gone a bit too far. She crouched and pressed one fingertip to the man’s head, easing his roiling mind just enough for him to fall into unconsciousness. Then she stood, cracking her neck from side to side, and held up two fingers, tipping them towards the door.

Anbu’s Team 7 left the home of the Fire Daimyo unchallenged, the moon the only thing watching them. As usual, it was mission complete.

This was to be their last mission before their objective switched from stopping the Akatsuki’s political agenda to stopping Naruto Uzumaki.

\---

Wrapped fingers with nails brushed in black polish tapped a melody on the long table as a row of shinobi studied the figure the fingers were attached to. Their faces wore disgusted expressions, some of them sneering while others looked simply furious. The silence in the room was unnatural, stretching out unbroken as everyone except for the blonde boy at the table head began to sweat.

Finally, unable to take the tension, one of the shinobi men burst from his seat and levelled an accusing finger at Naruto, his expression a mix of triumph and uncertainty.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, devil?” he cried out, his voice harsh and grating in Naruto’s ears. Naruto smirked, but said absolutely nothing, and everyone in the room seemed to take it as a sign of guilt. They erupted into speak all at once, yelling, pointing fingers, and making a general racket until the leader who had spoken shushed them.

“If he says nothing, he is quite clearly guilty,” the leader declared, as if he’d said some great, memorable thing. Everyone at the table nodded quickly, and the leader signalled for two ninjas to grab Naruto by the arms. A man and a woman moved to stand beside him, and he offered no resistance as they hefted him up by the armpits and began to practically drag him towards the door. The glittering, silvery chains binding his hands and feet together allowed no use of chakra, no way to break them or escape.

Another ninja ran ahead to shove rough wooden doors open, and Naruto was shoved into harsh sunlight that made him narrow his eyes and squint until his eyes could adjust. The open chamber he’d just been in was situated conspicuously in the middle of a field, and if someone didn’t know what was going on here, they would’ve found the entire situation intensely weird. A single-roomed hut with a table for convening a council in the middle of a field, thirteen shinobi dragging a chained fourteenth through the middle of a crowd, and hundreds of civilians gathered around a single apple tree.

“Evil!” “Devil!” “Monster!” “Go back to Hell!” “You shouldn’t have been born!” “Hurry up and die!”

Hundreds of voices chorused out at Naruto, and a few people even threw rocks with fairly accurate arms. If Naruto hadn’t been held in place by two shinobi, he might’ve been able to dodge, but since he was unable to move the rocks struck him in the face and took gouges out of his skin. He spat blood from a broken tooth, and turned to shoot an unwavering look at the people throwing rocks. They cringed back, throwing up their hands as if his look dirtied them, and he heard someone make a horrified comment about how his wounds were already healing.

One of the shinobi holding him shoved his head back down, and then he was walked on through the crowd, at some points getting hit with rotten fruit so that decaying slop dripped down his face. Under his breath, he let out the slightest of sighs as Zetsu was proven right yet again. Human beings were truly despicable creatures.

When he’d finally made his way through the entire crowd, he was shoved forward roughly and stumbled up a couple of steps of a platform situated below the apple tree. He looked up tiredly as he crested the final step, only to be grabbed again by two more ninjas. They tugged him to the middle of the oaken platform and spun him to face the jeering crowd, which grew silent. A thin, reedy man wearing a pair of half-moon glasses stepped forward to address the crowd in a tremulous voice, hints of asthmatic lungs coming into the words as he spoke.

“This man, Naruto Namikaze, has been accused of being a jinchuuriki,” the man called, and the crowd bristled with hatred, gazes hot with accusation turning to Naruto. Man, these people were way worse than even Konoha.

“It’s Uzumaki, actually,” Naruto corrected, and he was awarded a slap across the mouth for his correction.

“Uzumaki,” he said again with a lopsided grin, and this time the open hand turned into a fist and he could hear the delicate bones in his nose crunch at the punch. He grunted in pain as his nose streamed blood; this was _not_ very pleasant.

“As the remaining members of Uzushio—”

Naruto tried to protest against that too, since he knew for a fact that not a single one of these freaks was from Uzushio. That earned him a blow to the stomach so harsh his breakfast came back up, and that really pissed him off. It was ramen! Ramen! These stupid fuckers had wasted ramen simply because he refuted an untrue claim.

“—we have used Uzumaki Chains to bind him. The power the devil has granted him cannot be used, and so now we can deal out his punishment.”

Naruto groaned softly; using the Uzumaki name for something so ridiculous made this personal. These chains had been crafted with the intent to bind chakra, yes, but they weren’t Uzumaki Chains. Naruto wanted to correct the man about that too—Uzumaki Chains couldn’t be used as objects by anyone other than someone with the correct chakra, since they were chakra manifestations—but he had a feeling that trying to explain that might end with something even more painful than the last few blows.

“As agents of peace, we cannot allow jinchuurikis to walk around this world unchained and unpunished!” the asthma-man cried out. The crowd cheered at that, getting riled up and shoving each other so they could all get closer to the platform. Naruto shifted from foot to foot, idly wondering if there was any way to make the Akatsuki cloak less hot. On a sunny day like this, the thing soaked up heat like nobody’s business.

“Before we begin, is there anything you have to say for yourself, Naruto Namikaze?” the man demanded, his high voice suggesting that there better not be anything Naruto should have to say at the end of his life. Naruto narrowed his eyes at the man, and even that slight movement earned him a slap to the back of the head which sent the crowd into hysterics.

“I have just one question,” Naruto said softly, and asthma-man’s face began to get so red at Naruto’s insolence that Naruto was sure he’d keel over and croak right there. Quickly, before that could happen, Naruto forged on. “How many other ‘jinchuurikis’ have you killed?”

It took a moment of spluttering indignation for the man to finally calm down enough to speak. When he did, though, there was a glint of pride in his eye, and he seemed to stand a little straighter.

“Twenty-two!” he said with an expansive sweep of his stick-like arms, sending the crowd roaring their approval. Naruto closed his eyes, trying to calm himself as even Kurama’s shock permeated throughout him.

“But there are only nine,” Naruto whispered, unable to point out that every single one of those nine were all still alive. He’d come across things like this before, witch-hunts where people saw devils in every person who was different or outside of their own beliefs. Zetsu lead him to these places so he could put an end to them, and he’d done everything he could. Yet everything he could didn’t change the fact that people like these existed, or that they killed innocents. Twenty-two. _Twenty-two_ innocent people had been killed, and for what?

“Lies! Shut your lying mouth!” the man cried, and Naruto was pummeled by blows from all sides. He curled in on himself to escape them, mouth twisting grimly. This wasn’t funny anymore—this place had gone further than any of the other places he’d been to.

“It is time for the devil’s punishment!” a voice said, maybe from the crowd, maybe from the man; Naruto couldn’t tell anymore. He was crudely jerked into an upright position and forced on his toes as someone lowered a noose over his head. The rope was an unforgiving burn at his throat as it was tightened more than necessary, the coarse fibers rubbing uncomfortably over his Adam’s apple. He was too short to go back to the soles of his feet, and he was forced to remain on his toes as the three shinobi that had fit the noose over his head stepped back.

“You are hereby declared an enemy of humanity, a blight, a _plague_ , on our very existence! As such, we sentence you to the only thing one of your ilk deserves! _Death by hanging!”_

The crowd exploded into cheers, and Naruto was sickened to see children among them. Some of the children looked nervous, as if this was their first time seeing people die, but others had that same crazy look in their eye that people got when they were swept up with a crowd. If this was allowed to continue, it would become a cycle, propagating itself over and over until hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent lives were taken due to the fanaticism of a few.

The hand of the man who’d been speaking—both the announcer and the executioner, Naruto supposed—hovered over a switch that likely had mechanics under it that would allow it to drop the floor out from underneath Naruto’s feet. Naruto wondered for a brief second what the other people standing here had felt when that switch had been pulled. A sharp, painful crack as the tiny, incredibly important bones in their neck were crushed up against each other and then broken? A collapsing of airways that led to a horrible gasping whereupon the gasper learned oxygen could no longer enter their lungs? A burning pain as the few circular muscles lining the esophagus were torn apart by the force of the drop? All of it together, at once, causing an unbearable panic and agony in the last few seconds of life?

The executioner pulled the switch, and the floor dropped out from under Naruto. The crowd went nuts for a second, screaming, stamping their feet, and roaring in approval, until they realised that Naruto was exactly where he’d been before the switch had been pulled. He surveyed them, unsmiling, as they stared back in stunned silence.

“The—the devil is… the devil is making him float!” someone screamed. Naruto’s gaze snapped to that person, and he pulled his lips back in a snarl he imagined a devil would make. Then he jerked his hands apart and the chain snapped like a twig between his hands. He reached up and grabbed the rope around his neck with one hand, breaking it with ease.

“W-w-w-” the asthma man wheezed uncomprehendingly as Naruto casually swung on the rope and jumped to land lightly beside him.

“Who the fuck chained me up?” Naruto asked, eyes hard as he stared at the man. Everyone was silent now, watching the scene with eyes bugging from their heads. The asthma man continued to splutter and wheeze, unable to come up with a coherent answer.

“I did,” Naruto supplied as the Chains around his feet dissolved. The ones on his hands had been the usual chakra binding ones this group used, but those weren’t enough to hold back his Nine-Tails chakra along with his usual chakra. If there’d been some on his feet, it was possible that would’ve been enough, but in the excitement of catching someone declaring themselves a jinchuuriki, the men chaining him had assumed the Chains on his feet were the same as the ones on his wrists. Big mistake. Almost as big as making him vomit up his ramen.

Naruto cut the chakra threads he’d attached to the apple tree with one hand, raising a single eyebrow at asthma man. The man seemed to be drowning in air as he fell back onto the platform, crab walking backwards to escape the hot wrath of Naruto’s gaze.

“Is your God merciful?” Naruto asked as he took a step forward. The rest of the shinobi and crowd could’ve used this chance to attack, but they seemed as helplessly frozen as the executioner.

“Because let me tell you something…” Naruto murmured as he let Kurama’s anger surface slightly, changing his eyes for show. He cast a glance out over the audience, monstrous eyes resting for a second on each face there. He’d originally spared the children in groups like these, but Zetsu went back to slaughter them anyway, claiming it was better that way. It was still hard, but Naruto was learning that Zetsu was as right about that as he was about humanity. Men, women, children… there was no hope for any of them.

“I’m not.”


	2. A Promise, A Prophecy, and A Parallel

Sakura was leaning against a tree near the Memorial Stone with her eyes closed when she sensed a slight change in the air. It wasn’t anything overtly threatening or even anything so big that someone under jounin level would notice, but Sakura’s chakra pooled in her hand immediately and her eyes cracked open as a member of the Akatsuki glided towards her on silent feet. Jade eyes narrowed as she watched Itachi Uchiha make no move to hide his presence, his hands hanging loosely at his side. They both knew his hands were a threat whether they were clapped together or not, but the visual made it slightly easier for Sakura to trust him.

“Itachi,” Sakura greeted cautiously, dipping her head and uncrossing her arms as she straightened. Knowing what he’d been through made her respect him, but she still couldn’t completely trust him. He was a man used to playing both sides—he’d played Danzo, his clan, the Akatsuki, and now her. She had no idea what to expect each time he came to her. Even if he cared for someone, he would destroy them for the greater good. It wasn’t exactly confidence-inspiring.

“Naruto’s time has come,” Itachi said without preamble, his dark eyes filled with unfathomable depths of emotion. “He sets out for the Kazekage tomorrow.”

Sakura did her best to hide her shock; it wasn’t like she hadn’t known this was coming. Itachi had told her again and again that Naruto was planning to make his move on his seventeenth birthday, but somehow Sakura just hadn’t been able to believe he’d really go after Gaara. The few days she’d spent with Naruto during the Chuunin Exams, he’d seemed so close to Gaara that Sakura couldn’t imagine he’d let anyone hurt the Suna ninja. Yet now Naruto himself was going to hurt the Kazekage.

“Are you _sure?_ ” Sakura risked asking, because she couldn’t let her team go out on this mission if they didn’t have all the facts. They could keep relatively cool heads about most things, but when it came to Naruto Sasuke could be unpredictable. There were things he wanted from the blonde that Sakura wasn’t sure he even understood. Information, he claimed, was the main reason, but somehow there was a tenuous connection still existing between the youngest Uchiha and the Nine-Tails’ jinchuuriki.

“Yesterday I was late getting to the mission we were supposed to do together,” Itachi said, his voice resolutely detached. “If I hadn’t stopped him, this time he would’ve killed even the children. As it was, I had to erase the children’s memories of what happened and send them to the nearest town. It was a massacre on a scale I haven’t seen in… a long time.”

Sakura didn’t need Ino’s jutsu to know what Itachi was thinking. She almost wanted to comfort him, but that would be breaking the rules of how to deal with a rogue ninja feeding you information on your enemies. As aloof, cold, and mysterious as Itachi was, he couldn’t hide the emotions in his eyes. Sakura had too many years of experience with knowing the difference between a front and the truth when it came to Uchiha emotions.

“I see. We’ll get ready to stop him then,” Sakura muttered, mostly to herself. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to do that, because as strong as her team was, Naruto plus another member of the Akatsuki would be an incredibly hard battle. Pairing Sasuke up to fight Naruto would’ve been the best move if Sasuke wasn’t so attached to the little blonde, but as it stood her and Sai would have to fight him alongside Gaara while Sasuke fought Sasori of the Red Sand.

“I’d advise you to wait,” Itachi said flatly. Sakura blinked at him in astonishment, and she could see him struggling to put his thoughts to words.

“Gaara is one of his most important people, and he has yet to fight anyone important to him. In his own eyes, the things he’s done now have all had some sense of justice, no matter how twisted. This is something entirely new to him, and it might be a good idea to see if he pauses. If there’s Konoha ninjas there, he won’t. If it’s just him and Gaara…”

“And Sasori?” Sakura challenged. From what little Itachi had spoken of him, Sasori seemed like he kept a cool head in most situations. If Naruto couldn’t kidnap Gaara, Sasori could probably do it without getting emotional.

“He has something else to look after.”

From the way Itachi clammed up after he said it, Sakura knew she wouldn’t be getting any more information about the puppet master. Itachi may supply her with a lot of info on the Akatsuki’s movements, but he was surprisingly loyal to the individual members. He offered none of their weaknesses and spoke very little of them unless they were integral to what Sakura needed to know.

“So what do you propose we do?” Sakura asked in exasperation. It was vital that Naruto was stopped, and Sakura desperately wanted to help Gaara. Relations between Konoha and Suna were at an all time high now that the Kazekage spent many of his days with Hinata Hyuuga, plus Temari and Shikamaru seemed like they could end up a potential match. Temari spent more days in Konoha while Hinata spent more days in Suna, and both villages were fine with that trade.

“His next destination is the Two-Tails in the Village Hidden in the Clouds. It’s a territory that he’s been to but still isn’t familiar with, so if you go there now and learn the terrain, you’ll have the advantage when he shows up. Naruto won’t allow Gaara to die, of that much I’m sure. The next jinchuuriki, however—Yugito Nii—is someone whose life he doesn’t value nearly as much.”

It was a strategically sound plan, Sakura had to admit. As the head of her team, Sakura was responsible for making these decisions, and she knew this was one of those times where she’d have to a make choice she could end up being hated for. Her emotions told her that she needed to help Gaara, and she knew Sasuke wanted to see Naruto as soon as possible. But Itachi’s plan gave them the best advantage, and as a leader she was expected to find a real way to defeat Naruto rather than just save jinchuurikis. Plus, if they acted now, the Akatsuki would figure out there was a traitor in their midst since the timing would be too good to pass off as coincidence.

“If I go to Kumo… do you promise to keep Naruto from destroying himself and Gaara?” Sakura asked, pinning Itachi to the spot with her eyes. This was an uncharacteristically emotional request, but Sakura was one of the few Anbu members who thought emotions could help in moderation. Her, and Yugao.

“I’ll try,” Itachi said, with one small nod, but that wasn’t good enough. Sakura took two steps, seizing his arm and forcing him to look her in the eye as she glared at him.

“That’s not good enough, Itachi Uchiha. I want your _word_. I want you to _promise_ me you won’t let anything to happen to either of them. This isn’t just for me—this is for Sasuke, too. As his best friend, I’m telling you that if anything happens to Naruto it’ll destroy him. Promise me, Itachi.”

Itachi regarded Sakura with a look bordering on astonishment before he got himself under control. He tugged his arm away and cast his eyes down as he nodded once again, and Sakura relaxed a little.

“Very well. I give you my word.”

\---

Sasuke wound his way through trees, leaving false trails and moving at such a quick pace that anyone following him would have to make a mistake and reveal themselves or lose him. He twirled two kunai loosely around his fingers, waiting for the sound or sight of anyone, but when he stopped there was nothing. He relaxed marginally, sliding his kunai back into his vest, and gave one last quick search with his Sharingan.

He hadn’t really expected to see anyone following him, but when he went to visit his sensei, he took every precaution. He and Kakashi were the only ones who were aware that his teacher even existed, and Kakashi had told Sasuke to make damn sure he kept it that way.

Sasuke jumped from the branch he was perched on to land lightly at the edge of the familiar forest clearing, soft sandals only making the barest whisper on the leaves. He padded into the clearing and waited for a moment before pressing his hands together in a familiar sign. Anyone watching might’ve thought he was about to perform some sort of jutsu, but the two men watching for it knew it as a signal.

Kakashi Hatake and Obito Uchiha stepped out of the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, looking confident and comfortable together as they trotted up to greet Sasuke.

Sasuke didn’t know much about Obito other than the fact that the man was an Uchiha who had supposedly died and gone on to join the Akatsuki. He was the one who’d given Kakashi his Sharingan, apparently, but Kakashi hadn’t told Sasuke how the two of them had met or where Obito was from. Sasuke didn’t even know what Obito’s face looked like, since he always wore a mask. Then again, he had no idea what Kakashi’s face looked like either. All Sasuke knew was that Kakashi never seemed as lively as he was when he was with Obito.

“You can take your mask off now,” Kakashi offered after greeting Sasuke, and Sasuke reached up to remove the fox face. He turned it over, inspecting it for a second, and was a little surprised to find it was as familiar to him as his own face now. Black and red slanted around the eyeholes to give the impression of narrowed eyes, and Sasuke had been told his eyes looked fearsome set with the fox’s. Red lines traced where a fox’s whiskers would be on cheeks and the forehead made the gold line down the nose pop out, and a scarlet swirl in the middle of the forehead made the mask look eerie.

Obito reached out to snag it from Sasuke’s hands and set a finger against the swirl, tracing it idly.

“You do know the Uzumaki clan’s symbol is this, right? A red swirl?”

“Not everything I do has to do with Naruto,” Sasuke snapped, taking the mask back as Obito lifted his hands in surrender, clearly amused. No, Sasuke hadn’t known that, and now he felt like scrubbing the swirl off. Everyone who was close to him was convinced he had an obsession with Naruto, but that wasn’t it at all. What he wanted from Naruto was information, because Naruto knew things about Itachi that Sasuke needed to find out. Yeah, he kind of really wanted to talk to Naruto about the things that happened between them before Naruto had been taken away (Ashura, their friendship, what Naruto had meant when he’d said “ _maybe more_ ”), but the main priority was Itachi.

He’d ask Obito, but every time he tried Obito would shrug and say he knew nothing about the massacre. He said Naruto was Itachi’s new partner, so Naruto would be the one who knew everything. He was probably a goddamn liar, but there wasn’t much Sasuke could do unless he wanted to lose a powerful trainer.

“Speaking of Naruto, he was asking about you again,” Obito said casually, and Sasuke had to grit his teeth to keep from asking Obito what he meant. Obito read him as easy as an open book anyway, and the look he shared with Kakashi made Sasuke want to Chidori the both of them. Then Rasengan them. Then stick them in a genjutsu for ten thousand years.

“He wanted to know how you were, whether or not you were strong, if you every thought about him—which obviously I pretended not to know—and then, get this, he asked if you had a girlfriend!”

Kakashi chuckled as if that were the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and Sasuke had to close his eyes and count to ten. He was going to murder Obito. One of these days, he really was.

“Can we just get to training already?” Sasuke managed to get out, fuming. He wanted to ask what Obito had said in return, but that would’ve been asking to get laughed out of the forest. Obito shook his head, the smile fading from his face as he drew in a breath and regarded Sasuke seriously.

“Not today, Sas. The reason I’m here is actually Naruto, though it isn’t because he thinks I’m spying on you and he wants answers. It’s because he’s making his move soon. Tomorrow, in fact.”

Sasuke froze, and his heart didn’t know what to feel. He was excited, horrified, eager, sick. The torn expression he’d seen on Naruto’s face that time they’d coincidentally met up suddenly became easy to understand, and he had to press his mask against his face to remind himself to calm his feelings. The time and place for those wasn’t here.

“The message has been passed along to your leader—” Sasuke didn’t know how Obito was contacting Sakura, but it hardly mattered at this point. “—and she’s decided to go on ahead to his second stop, Kumogakure.”

“Second stop,” Sasuke said flatly, wondering if Sakura had lost it. Obito had told him of the Akatsuki’s plan to capture all the jinchuurikis, but he hadn’t told him what it was for. He’d only said that every jinchuuriki would have to die, including Naruto. There were eight people between Naruto and death, and Sakura wanted to make it seven for no reason other than she could? Plus, it was Gaara of all people. Did she want Naruto to destroy himself and have every Suna villager after him?

He forced himself into a cool, calm place again. No. Sakura was smarter than that; she must have a good reason for waiting.

“I don’t pretend to understand her decision, but I’ll accept it,” Obito muttered, looking like he wasn’t too happy about it either. “We have our orders, and one member of the Akatsuki will be accompanying Naruto for each jinchuuriki. For Suna, it’s Sasori of the Red Sand. For Kumo, it’s an immortal man named Hidan. I supposed you can trap him in a genjutsu, but you’ll need to do it quick.”

“Obito, I think it’s time you told us the truth,” Kakashi spoke up, and there was a tension in his voice Sasuke felt reverberate through his soul. “Just how strong is Naruto Uzumaki?”

Obito’s eye flashed to Sharingan as he turned to Kakashi, and he shook his head, muttering something under his breath that Sasuke didn’t catch. When he next spoke, it was louder, and it made Sasuke fists curl tightly at his sides.

“Even I don’t know the limits of his strength anymore. A puppet master who uses chains instead of threads, a kenjutsu master who uses a chakra-absorbing beast instead of a katana, a wind master who’s faster than the wind itself… He’s more than just a boy now. He’s a legacy, the legacy of our entire organization.”

“In that case, it looks like Team 7 is going to be reuniting with their old sensei again,” Kakashi sighed, stretching his arms over his head with a loud yawn. “And I was so looking forward to reading Jiraiya’s newest book, too.”

“You’re going as well, Kakashi?” Obito asked, startled. Kakashi grinned lazily under his mask, tipping Obito a two-fingered salute.

“How could I miss the fun?”

“But—”

“I know what face you’re making under that mask, Obito,” Kakashi said with a roll of his eyes. “You need to stop thinking of me as weak just because I haven’t been in the Akatsuki with you. Or have you forgotten that I beat you in every one of our training sessions?”

Well, that was news to Sasuke. Could Obito be from Konoha? Come to think of it, there was a name like that on the Memorial Stone, but Sasuke had assumed his Obito had the name of another distant Uchiha cousin. If his Obito was _that_ Obito… it made a lot of sense actually.

“Kakashi, don’t,” Obito hissed. “I’ve trained Sasuke for dealing with this and his teammates are incredibly strong, but you’re—”

“Not fit to be called their sensei if I let them go alone,” Kakashi pointed out. “Besides, I think this is what Minato would’ve wanted, don’t you?”

Obito fell silent, and Sasuke could feel his conflict emanating from him. Kakashi reached up and lay a hand on Obito’s head, ruffling his hair like a child and smirking. Obito knocked his hand away, eyes flashing.

“Stop it! Even if I’m helping you, my allegiance still lies with Naruto. I’m not the same person I was when we were young. I’ve—changed.”

“I know,” Kakashi said gently, and Sasuke suddenly felt like he was intruding on something private. He took a few steps, backing away, and neither man noticed.

“Then why are you treating me like I haven’t?” Obito snapped angrily. Sasuke paused, the desire to hear the answer rooting his feet in place. Obito was more mature, wearier, and more refined than Naruto, but his personality still reminded Sasuke of his blonde friend. Sometimes Obito got excited and exuberant over things the way Naruto had, and he’d seem completely baffled that he’d felt that way after. It made Sasuke wonder what Naruto would be like when he was older. Would he have the same kind of burdened, broken personality while he still tried as hard as he could?

“Because even if we’ve both changed, our friendship hasn’t. And also because someone has to.”

Kakashi put his hand on top of Obito’s again, and this time the Uchiha didn’t seem to have the heart to knock it away. As Sasuke crept away to go find Sakura, he could hear Obito feebly protesting while Kakashi started teasing him.

— _because someone has to._

Did anyone still treat Naruto like he wasn’t an overpowered monster of a ninja? Even Obito acted wary when he spoke of the little jinchuuriki. Sasuke thought back to the times Naruto had seemed truly happy. After Sasuke had accepted him even though he knew Naruto was Kaze. After Sakura had punched him in the face and shown she wasn’t afraid of him. After Sai had started mercilessly making fun of him the way he did with everyone else.

_You’re doing this to get information_ , Sasuke had to remind himself. Deep down, though, he thought he knew how he might react next time he met up with his friend.

\---

If there was one thing Jiraiya hated more than having to go out of his way when there were hot springs on his way, it was the irritating feeling that something was wrong. He had been running from that feeling since he’d fought Minato’s son, throwing himself first into teaching Sasuke the Rasengan, then into pursuing Tsunade until she kicked him out of Konoha for a while, and finally into communal hot springs where he drank sake like nobody’s business. Of course, it didn’t help. The feeling nagged at him the way Sarutobi-sensei’s voice used to, until, after four years, he reluctantly followed it here.

Here being Mount Myoboku. He could’ve asked one of the toads to summon him here, but he’d stalled for so long that he decided another month of stalling to walk the secret path wasn’t too bad. It was also calming to walk through a place you didn’t have to worry about being killed in, and he always felt more in touch with nature here than any other place.

Of course, the lack of women and booze wasn’t anything to write home about, but the natural beauty was alright for a month. Through dappled forests where butterflies danced to unheard rhythms, grassy plains where odd spotted mushrooms grew in clumps, merrily bubbling brooks where toads lounged languidly, Jiraiya had puttered on until he reached the heart of the mountain.

Now he crouched, bowing on a floor that radiated a soothing coolness after days of hot travelling, and waited for Gamamaru to speak.

“You travelled all the way here just for a question?” the old toad asked, squinting at Jiraiya with his ever-present smile. Jiraiya could feel a smile of its own tugging on his lips; he hadn’t spoken a word and already Gamamaru knew what he was going to say.

“I did. It’s important, though.”

“Indeed it is,” Gamamaru chuckled, eyes glazing over as he seemed to see something in a place others couldn’t look. “It’s regarding Ashura, is it not?”

“Naruto,” Jiraiya corrected cautiously, remembering that the name Ashura had been thrown around as well. Perhaps his question _did_ involve Ashura, after all.

“Hm? Oh, as you say, then. Though they’re so close to being one and the same, are they not? Ashura and Naruto. Indra and Sasuke. Fates intertwined so close it’s hard to tell them apart, though I suppose Naruto and Sasuke’s relationship won’t be quite the same.”

Gamamaru laughed like he was making some sort of personal joke, then coughed his way into silence once more. He didn’t lose his smile the entire time.

“Ask it, then.”

“You once prophesized that a student of mine would bring a great revolution to the world. I’ve had a few students—Yahiko’s gang, Minato’s squad, and most recently Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Ah, but there was one more,” Gamamaru said, waving a single digit, chastising, at Jiraiya. “The amount of time you spent training someone doesn’t make a difference. A student is someone you personally taught something to, whether intentionally or not.”

“I was afraid of that,” Jiraiya muttered, bowing his head with a long sigh. He really hadn’t meant to teach Naruto anything, but when he’d attacked with the Rasengan he’d seen a light go on in the boy’s eyes. _Ding! So that’s the attack you combine with the Flying Thunder God Technique!_ Man, this was bad. He’d unwittingly made Naruto his student briefly.

“There was nothing you could do to stop this from happening, Jiraiya, but you need not fear it,” Gamamaru said, and in that second he sounded eerily like Sarutobi. “His fate is still in the air, and your choice has yet to be made. Until that time comes, there is still hope for Naruto Uzumaki.”

_As long as he loves, there is still hope for Naruto Uzumaki_.

Well, if every old geezer sensei he’d ever had kept saying it, Jiraiya supposed he may as well accept it.  Minato and Kushina’s son was not completely lost in the darkness yet, despite what other people claimed. That, or all the old guys were going senile.

_Either way_ , Jiraiya decided, _my question has been answered and that annoying feeling is gone. Now I can finally go back to pursuing the woman with the knockers of my dreams_.


	3. Omnia Mutantur

“This is for you,” Itachi said to Naruto three days after he’d mysteriously disappeared yet again. Sasori had a fairly good idea of where Itachi went when he disappeared, but he said nothing of it to the others. As long as none of them ended up dead from the betrayal, Sasori couldn’t see any harm in Konoha shinobi knowing about their plans. He highly doubted there were any ninjas skilled enough to defeat Naruto along with another Akatsuki member.

“Happy birthday,” Itachi murmured, as he held out the small box containing a gift every member of the Akatsuki had been working on since Naruto had turned ten.

“Seventeen years old already, brat?” Hidan laughed, leaning on Naruto’s shoulder with one elbow. “Can’t fuckin’ believed you survived that long. Happy birthday, kiddo!”

“Happy seventeenth,” Sasori offered almost warmly, reaching up to lay a hand on Naruto’s blonde fluff of hair. Naruto was officially taller than him now, and for some reason it made him feel like some humans had the potential to be as good as puppets. What an odd feeling it was.

“G-guys…” Naruto gasped out as he looked at the box then grinned with all his might. “You didn’t have to!”

Sasori wondered if the grin was real or if it was just for the Akatsuki members all gathered around. Naruto’s birthdays had always been celebrated low-key, mostly because his birthday was the same day his parents had died. He may not have known his parents well, but it was still a day that held just as much sorrow as happiness. This year, though, everyone had pitched in to try to make the happiness outweigh the sorrow. Which was rather morbid, considering this might be Naruto’s last birthday ever.

“Of course we did,” Konan put in, holding out a cake she’d gotten from who knew where. “You’re our younger brother, and we all wanted to celebrate accordingly.”

Pain nodded from his perch on a large boulder, thoughtful but not as grim as usual. Even he was making an effort to be—or at least seem—more cheerful than usual. Naruto’s eyes teared up at the cake and he swiped at them, laughing as Tobi danced around the room before sticking a party hat on Naruto’s head. The Akatsuki’s cave hideout near the Sand Village was an odd place to have a party and the muted browns and grays of rock weren’t very festive, but this was the place they met up the most so it was the closest thing to home they had.

“I wanted to make you a giant bomb, but _some_ people didn’t think it was appropriate, hm,” Deidara muttered, slanting his eyes sideways at Sasori.

“As you denied my making him a puppet,” Sasori sighed. “Which is a much more tasteful art present if you ask me.”

“Stop fighting and let the kid have a happy birthday, you fools,” Kakuzu grumbled, and Sasori went back to studiously ignoring Deidara’s existence while Deidara griped at Kakuzu for not understand true art. Naruto was still grinning like mad, his face stretched so wide it looked like it was going to split, while he opened the small box Itachi had handed him.

“This…” Naruto began in surprise.

“We each infused a great deal of chakra into each charm,” Pain said, leaping down from his perch. The Akatsuki parted like a wave to make room for him as he came up to Naruto. He reached down and took the necklace from the box, holding it up so it glinted in what little natural light the cave let in. “If need be, you can use it against the Tailed Beasts.”

The necklace was deceptively simple-looking; a short, adjustable leather cord with nine charms spaced evenly around it. Each charm resembled the black markings in a Sharingan, and at first glance there was nothing special about them. But when Naruto bowed his head for Pain to put the necklace over his head, he gasped when they fell against his skin. Sasori knew what he was feeling; each charm had its own unique hum of power, as every single one was filled to the brim with a different Akatsuki’s member’s chakra.

“How long have you been working on this?” Naruto asked in shock, reaching up to finger each charm. His grin turned gentle, and Sasori could see that this one was real, which in turn made almost every other member smile. Zetsu was the only one not there and the only one who hadn’t worked on it (he’d claimed he didn’t see the point), but there was another unexpected chakra that made up for it.

“No way,” Naruto breathed, his smile fading as his fingers found it. “This can’t be… why…”

“We’ve been working on it for seven years, which I believe answers both of your questions,” Itachi said kindly, and Naruto pressed both hands into his eyes, taking deep breaths as he tried not to lose it. Pain pulled him close in a side-armed hug, and then the rest of the Akatsuki crowded around to pat him on the head or slug him in the arm.

Most members of the Akatsuki tended not get close enough to each other to cry over each other’s deaths, but Naruto was that close to everyone. Watching him sob over the already half-filled charm Kisame had been working on before he’d died, Sasori had to look away as an unfamiliar lump settled in his throat.

 

_“I’ll have it all filled up before you know it,” Kisame laughed, holding the little black charm up to his eye. “Samehada tends to absorb my chakra when I have too much, but if I pour it all into this I’m sure that’ll help. It’s already half-full now!”_

_He held it out and Sasori raised an eyebrow, extending his hand as Kisame dropped it into his palm. He closed his fingers around it, feeling a hum of power that far surpassed how much chakra he’d poured into his own charm. Kisame was being a foolish show-off, but Sasori had to admit that he was impressed._

_“I’ll fill the rest up when I get back from the mission, but for now hold onto it for me. I’m going to be travelling with Naruto and I don’t want him to see it early. When he finally does see it, I can’t wait to see the look on his face—knowing him, it’ll be some stupid, sappy look that’ll make everyone happy.”_

 

It _was_ a stupid, sappy look, but the other half of Kisame’s prediction wasn’t entirely right. Remembering Kisame’s fighting spirit permeated the cave with a particular kind of fond sorrow Sasori didn’t think a single person in the Akatsuki was used to. The rest of the day was spent under the cloud of this sorrow, yet no one there found it entirely unpleasant. Eating cake, smearing it on each other’s faces, setting off explosive fireworks, doing marionette plays… It was as pleasant a memorial as one could hope for. A memorial for one who had died, and a memorial for one who would be dead soon.

\---

Chiyo was surprised when a small, redheaded puppet tottered into her room, waving its tiny wooden arms at her desperately. Among other things, Sasori had mastered a jutsu that allowed him to imbue small objects with chakra so they could carry out his will without him having to use chakra threads. It wasn’t a technique that could be used in battle, but it could carry messages and it had been used by many a puppet master to entertain children.

“Hello there,” Chiyo said sadly, her knees aching as she crouched and held out her hand. The puppet, which was only a few inches tall, clicked and whirred as it climbed into her hand. She held it up to her eyes, squinting to read what Sasori had written on it.

_Meeting. Usual place._

It was succinct and demanding, which were two of Sasori’s more fatal flaws. Chiyo wanted to know more, of course, since she’d been meeting with her grandson every month for the past six years and had never once been summoned like this, but Sasori hadn’t been inclined to write more.

After delivering the message, the tiny puppet slumped forward and fell face-first into her palm. Chiyo stood and shuffled over to the shelf she kept all of his other tiny puppets on, all of which read _Not this month_. She set the puppet up beside the others, reaching out a finger to trace its face gently.

Sasori claimed to have lost his emotions and gotten rid of his heart, but Chiyo didn’t think it was possible for someone with no heart to craft something so exquisite. Every detail was done with painstaking care—dare she say even love?—to make the puppet look like it was bored. Yet there were even tinier details that, while at first looked like flaws, were clearly done with purpose.

If you looked down the line of puppets, they began with a man resembling Sasori staring with vacant, lifeless eyes out at nothingness. The next puppet was similar, but in the eyes were slightly more colour, and the expression wasn’t as flat. The third puppet had the tiniest lines around his mouth, as if he’d aged slightly, and his eyes seemed to be focused on Chiyo. Down the line, they grew older and the eyes developed more life, until this final puppet looked like Sasori’s real age, and his eyes were filled with sorrow. Chiyo doubted Sasori was even aware that he was crafting them this way—she’d seen the way he worked on his puppets and he worked with a focus that transcended consciousness until she was sure he was putting his entire soul into them.

“Have you come home yet, Sasori?” Chiyo whispered, her deft fingers brushing over the latest puppet’s stormy gray eyes. They were so filled with life that Chiyo almost expected them to begin leaking tears, and it took everything she had to tear herself away from the shelf. Perhaps this time she’d see the real Sasori, the one whose soul was bared in these tiny puppets.

\---

After bidding Hinata goodnight and leaving her to Temari’s apartment, where she often stayed, Gaara decided to take a walk through his village. The sun was just cresting the horizon as it sunk, and it dyed all of the sand in the village a burnished red as Gaara padded softly through the streets. Mothers coaxing their children to bed looked up to grin and wave as Gaara walked by, whispering furiously to their children.

“Yo, Lord Kazekage!” one of the kids called, and his mother looked scandalized, shaking her head as she said something about being more respectful to the leader of the village. It was alright with Gaara though; both the sight of children being lovingly scolded by their parents and children staring at him with sparkling eyes made Gaara’s heart ache with a sweet happiness. He went up to pat the kid on the head, and the mother looked relieved, as if _she_ had expected a scolding from Gaara for the disrespect.

It was kind of funny, the way even the adults sometimes seemed to feel like children around Gaara. Now that he’d comfortably settled into his position as the head of Sunagakure, Gaara realized that being a Kage was something like being a parent, and the protectiveness he felt towards his entire village was greater than almost any he’d ever felt.

Thinking of that led him to thoughts of Naruto, a friend he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. After the attack on Konoha, Gaara had waited and waited for Naruto to come to him, but the blonde cut himself off and disappeared. The last Gaara had seen of him was at his inauguration, but they hadn’t even spoken. It had hurt to be cut off like that, and Gaara still didn’t quite understand what had happened.

It was a bitter twist of fate—or just his instincts, he supposed—when his feet ended up steering his walk to the tallest building in the center of the village, where he had sat with Naruto during nights that seemed endless. The stars and moon hadn’t changed, but so many other things had that Gaara almost expected the darkening sky to look completely different.

The only noticeable difference from the previous times he’d sat there was a tall, shadowy figure standing at the edge of the roof, cloak rippling like dark water behind him as the sun cast a ruddy glow on golden hair.

“You’ve come back,” Gaara whispered, the wind stealing his breath away and carrying his words to his fellow jinchuuriki. Naruto didn’t seem surprised to hear Gaara behind him, and he didn’t bother turning as he continued to survey the Village Hidden in the Sand. Gaara made his way up to Naruto uncertainly, unsure where they stood after years of Naruto’s absence.

“That’s close enough,” Naruto said, and Gaara’s feet rooted themselves in place a metre or two behind his friend. There was a new weight to Naruto’s voice, a grief as fresh and raw as a newly opened wound. When Naruto turned his face just slightly, sorrow bled through his eyes as half of his face was cast in shadow, and Gaara ached to comfort him. Too much could’ve happened in four years. Especially to a jinchuuriki.

“I’m glad you’re back, Naruto,” Gaara said softly, as if calming a wild animal. “I’ve been waiting for you. I wanted to formally extend an invitation to become a Sand ninja, no matter the trouble it gets me in. My home is your home.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Naruto rasped, turning back to the village and crossing his arms. Gaara nodded, sand stirring at his feet as he moved forward again. Naruto spun to face him, protesting, but Gaara ignored his protests until they were face-to-face. Then he reached out and wrapped Naruto in a warm embrace, pulling his friend close even as his heart broke and he knew they wouldn’t be friends for much longer.

“You once told me to do what I could live with,” Gaara said quietly, hugging Naruto tighter. “Follow your own advice, Naruto Uzumaki.”

Naruto shuddered, then wrapped his arms around Gaara and hugged him back just as tight, his fingers digging into Gaara’s back as he pressed his face into Gaara’s shoulder.

“I am, Gaara,” he muttered hoarsely. “This is the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make, but I need you to know that it’s for the best.”

“I’m sorry you have to choose,” Gaara said, echoing the sentiment Naruto had once offered to him. It was a strange feeling, to have switched positions so completely, but somehow the pain was almost the same as it had been when he’d had to make the decision himself. Why was it that the only options the shinobi world offered were incredibly cruel?

“You can come of your own free will,” Naruto said as he leaned back, closing his eyes as if the words physically hurt. He broke the hug first, and Gaara was left with a jagged hole where once the most important friendship he’d ever had was shattered. “Or I can take you by force. What is your decision, Gaara of the Sand?”

The old name was like a punch to the gut, and Gaara struggled to compose himself. They had begun the night as old friends, but by the time the sun rose in the morning, they’d be enemies.

“If circumstances were different, I’d die for you in a heartbeat,” Gaara said. “But my life no longer belongs to me, so I can’t offer it to you. My life belongs to the people of this village, and because I love them I need to fight for it.”

“You always were a gentle soul, Gaara,” Naruto breathed as the sound of rattling Chains filled the air. “I’m sorry my hatred has to chain you down. You’re one of the few people who make this reality almost worth it.”

They backed away from each other until Naruto was poised on the edge and Gaara was in the middle of the roof. Naruto spread his arms and Chains ran from his sleeves to hang from each finger, hitting the ground with soft plinks that sent grains of sand scattering to the air.

Now that they were facing each other, Gaara could see the changes in Naruto’s face. The other boy had become tall, losing all baby fat from his face while his cheeks grew thinner and his hair longer. His body had filled out more, his shoulders broadening so muscular fit as a descriptor rather than wiry, and there was something about the marks on his cheeks that seemed to make him look wilder. He had the look of someone who had given in to his baser nature and was at the point of no return.

“You’ve brought me back from the brink once,” Gaara said as his sand rose up around him. “Allow me to do the same for you.”

The sand flew towards Naruto but Naruto was gone in an instant, and more sand rose to stop him from behind Gaara. Gaara hadn’t even seen him move—if he didn’t have his sand, he would’ve been decimated. As it was, Naruto’s Chains shoved against his sand and then went through it, forcing to Gaara to leap away. Naruto was already behind him again using the Chains, and although Gaara’s sand slowed them enough for him to dodge, the chakra-sealing properties were too great for his sand to hold up against the onslaughts.

“Give up before I have to really hurt you,” Naruto snarled in Gaara’s ear, and Gaara used his sand to leap above Naruto’s head and perch on a grainy platform. At this height, there was no way Naruto could—

There was the slightest of hand movements from Naruto, and Gaara looked over his shoulder just in time to see an odd three-pronged kunai flying past him. Had Naruto missed on purpose? Gaara turned to look back at his friend, but the boy had disappeared. There was no way he’d looked at the kunai long enough for—

“Here!” Naruto roared and Gaara had just enough time to consciously make a cushion of sand on the roof before ten Chains wrapped around him from behind and sent him slamming to the ground. The Chains couldn’t touch him at first since his sand had made a protective shell around him, but he could sense them slicing their way through the shell with ease. He hit the ground with a gasp, the impact knocking his breath away and sending a huge burst of noise out across the village.

Naruto let the Chains go slack and Gaara rolled out from them, coming to his feet just in time to see all ten writhing towards him yet again. He couldn’t attack—in fact, unless he found some way to immobilize the power of the Chains, he could barely even defend. Panting, he wiped at his face and already a piece of the hardened outer skin he kept around himself began to crumble. All this, and Naruto wasn’t even trying. If anything, his warnings meant he was holding back.

Gaara slammed his hands into the ground and called as much sand as he could, hoping a denser layer could somehow hold the Chains longer. Just as they were about to strike his wall, however, there was a loud ringing sound and the steady plinks of Chains falling about the roof. Gaara lowered his wall for a second and was shocked to see familiar navy hair swaying in front of him.

“Hinata!” he yelled out as Naruto tsked under his breath and tried to send the Chains after the small, shy girl. Gaara wanted to scream at her to be careful, that these weren’t ordinary chains being controlled, but he closed his mouth when he saw that she had her Byakugan activated. Hinata’s eyes followed each Chain with a precision Gaara’s couldn’t hope to match, and when they moved to lash at her, her hands were a blur. She had been training with Neji for the past four years, and although Gaara had yet to see the results of that training, he knew her Gentle Fist was formidable indeed.

She struck every Chain, her eyes darting back and forth, and they shattered under her seemingly soft touches. Naruto narrowed his eyes, glancing from Gaara to her, and Gaara could physically see him begin to shut down. His indecision died away, replaced by a dark emptiness that was worse than any rage.

“So you’ve been consorting with a Konoha bitch, Gaara?” Naruto snarled, not even paying attention to the Chains that darted this way and that, weaving their own deadly attack and taking up every ounce of focus Hinata had. Gaara’s eyes flickered between Hinata and Naruto, and he was torn with the desire to help the girl he’d come to like or continue his battle.

“You need someone to look after the Chains, right?” Hinata asked with a voice of steel. “I may not be strong enough to do much, but I can do that at least. Focus on your battle.”

Naruto’s lip curled back at her words contemptuously, and Gaara wanted to tell the two of them to stop fighting. If circumstances were different, Gaara thought they might’ve even been able to get along considering how similar their ideals were. But Naruto’s methods were completely different, and he knew neither of them would approve of each other the way things were.

“Thank you,” Gaara managed as he stood from his crouch and closed his eyes for a brief second. He could feel the soul of his village, feel it in the air, the buildings, the people, the _sand_. His own strength had once been considered formidable, but it had never been enough to defeat Naruto. This time, however, he was using more than his own strength; he had the strength of the entire village behind him. When he opened his eyes, the wall of sand behind him was so massive that it blocked out even the moon. This was the sand his people had spilled their blood on to protect, each small grain coming together to make an incomprehensible whole.

Naruto studied the wall in consternation, then shook his head.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice,” he murmured. He closed one hand of Chains off and Hinata’s job became that much easier, although Gaara didn’t think anything would be easy for long. Naruto reached into his cloak with one hand and brought out a scroll. He threw it on the ground and knelt to press his hand on it, raising an eyebrow with a disapproving shake of his head when Gaara tried to stop him. He was gone from where he’d been in a flash, appearing on the opposite side of the roof still with the scroll.

His palm flattened against the summoning seal, and then he pulled it up, along with the handle of a massive sword wrapped much the same way his hands were. If he’d been any shorter, the effect of the immense, beastlike thing laying across one shoulder would’ve looked comical, but he’d grown into such a colossal sword and now he looked truly formidable.

“Have you ever trained in kenjutsu with a Sharingan user?” Naruto asked, tilting his head to look down his nose at Gaara and Hinata. “I fucking doubt it.”

Gaara’s sand crumbled just a little near the top and a beam of moonlight lit up Naruto’s eyes. Gaara had expected them to be the red, slit-pupiled demon eyes he’d once seen, however these cold, ocean-blues were all Naruto. They were sapphire to their very depths, motionless as a dead lake and holding no flickering candle of hope. They were Naruto’s, yes, and there wasn’t a trace of Nine-Tails, but somehow that wasn’t a comforting thought. They were still the eyes of a demon.

“It’s time for me to get serious,” Naruto whispered, those eyes widening a fraction. The light from the moon didn’t even make a dent in their darkness.


	4. Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

A few seconds before Chiyo got through the cliff crevices to come out into the open desert where she’d meet Sasori, she was sure she heard an explosion. She glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes and wondering what exactly was going on. Sasori calling her out was unusual, and every single guard near Suna’s entrance disappearing was even more unusual.

“Over here, grandmother,” a deep, rough voice called that almost certainly wasn’t Sasori’s. Chiyo spun to see a large, dark shape squatting like an oversized scorpion on the sand, the moon outlining a harsh, sharp face that was nothing like her beautiful grandson’s. A conical hat hid most of the head and a fluttering scrap of cloth covered the mouth, but the bloodshot eyes peering out from between those things chilled her.

“Who are you?” Chiyo growled, shaking her sleeves so a small scroll fell out into her fingers. She could sense thick, cloying danger around this man wearing the same cloak as her grandson, and a terrible feeling seized her heart, squeezing until she was sure it would be crushed. The feeling intensified when she saw dark smears in the sand all around the large, monstrous man. It was hard to tell in simple moonlight, but Chiyo could finally place the scent lending the air a coppery tang and she knew instinctively what the smears were. Blood.

“Are you deaf, old woman?” the thing chuckled, and Chiyo’s body began to shiver as she realized she’d been wrong this whole time. Sasori hadn’t been changing; perhaps he’d even meant to make it look that way all along.

“Sasori,” she said heavily, shaking her fingers to begin unrolling the small scroll. “What have you _done?_ ”

As his grandmother, she’d always wanted to believe the best. When he’d first started coming to her for the remedy to help his friend live just a little longer, she’d thought he’d decided to begin walking the long road of redemption. He’d even claimed he would no longer kill anyone, and like a fool Chiyo had believed in him. Him and that terrifying child he’d brought to her, who had somehow had his skin torn from his body.

“I took care of unnecessary distractions so we can begin our fight without having to wait,” the puppet Sasori was in said, his voice carrying a certain amount of amusement. “And besides, they’d hinder my companion when he’s bringing the One-Tails’ jinchuuriki back.”

“So that explosion—” Chiyo gasped, her veins becoming conduits for frost.

“It was the work of Naruto Uzumaki, yes,” Sasori’s puppet said, and suddenly the back of his cloak was lifted to reveal a glinting length of silver that looked like a tail with ductile, flexible joints. It thrashed from side to side as if in excitement or agitation, and a low laugh reverberated throughout the exquisitely crafted shell that was Sasori’s vessel.

“And you… you’ve called me out here so I can’t give aid,” Chiyo stated in defeat, unable to deny the brilliance of the plan. Without their best healer, any injured Sand ninja would end up dragging others down so they could help the injured. That way, Naruto would be able to isolate Gaara easier and Chiyo wouldn’t be able to use a subtle poison to stop him. Sasori had it planned down to a T, and all he needed to do was keep Chiyo away while Naruto annihilated the Sand Village.

“I _did_ tell you I wasn’t coming back for you,” Sasori snorted. Chiyo should’ve killed him when she’d had the chance, all those times he’d turned his back on her to walk away. He’d been so arrogant to do that, yet he’d implicitly known she wouldn’t—couldn’t—attack his open back. Saving the boy, too… she’d thought the boy would change Sasori, force him to grow up from his foolishness of running around with villains. Now, knowing she’d saved the one who would doom the Kazekage, Chiyo cursed her sentimentality. The time for mercy had ended years ago, back when shinobi had shattered the illusion of peace with war.

“If that is the case, it’s time for us to end this once and for all,” Chiyo breathed, shifting and wincing at how much her knees ached. Joints were a puppet’s weakness, and funny enough, they were also an old lady’s weakness. She doubted she’d be able to win this fight, but she wouldn’t be Sasori’s marionette anymore. Fully unfurling the scroll, Chiyo summoned Chikamatsu’s Collection, and the battle began.

\---

“Kakashi, no,” Obito said for the seventieth time since Kakashi had begun packing to go to the Village Hidden in the Clouds. He’d followed Kakashi all the way back to Kakashi’s place, concealing his presence whenever someone was near, and whenever someone wasn’t he’d speak up in protest again until it became a continuous loop. Kakashi stuck his pinky finger in his ear, cleaning it out as if Obito’s words were annoying gnats that were getting stuck in there.

“Kakashi _yes,_ ” he offered, and he didn’t need to look to know that his old friend was fuming in indignation. Many things had changed in Obito since the last time they’d met, but one of the few things that had stayed the same was how easy it was to tease the Uchiha. Kakashi could do it endlessly all day—and he often did—without tiring of it.

“Naruto and Hidan will destroy you, and when that happens, I won’t stop it! Even if I’m feeding you information, I’m still on Naruto’s side. He’s the reason I’m even here, since I don’t trust what Black Zetsu is doing to him. Speaking of Black Zetsu, he could also destroy you. In fact, any member—”

Kakashi stood, patting dust lightly from his pants, and turned to regard Obito with a tired, worn-out look.

“You keep going on and on as if what you’re saying is going to change something,” Kakashi sighed, shaking his head. “It won’t.”

“But—”

Kakashi reached out as if he were going to pat Obito on the head, and Obito relented slightly to let him. It had taken almost three years to get to this point, and Kakashi had been building this up so that Obito was so used to pats on the head that he didn’t pay much attention when Kakashi was reaching for him. This time, however, Kakashi’s hand changed trajectory at the last possible second and he tore the mask Obito kept on so diligently right off of his face.

An older, more scarred version of Kakashi’s friend gaped out at him, and Kakashi could feel nothing but relief at the sight. The Obito he remembered had a more filled out face, less lines around his eyes, and an unmarred right side, but beyond that, this was still the face of his Obito. Right now it even held that ever-present glower the Uchiha always shot him, his lips pulled into a half-pout and his eyebrows furrowed sourly.

“It’s not too bad,” Kakashi said with a lazy shrug while Obito grabbed for the mask. He looked almost scared now, and Kakashi had to grab his wrist to stop him from stuffing the mask back over the familiar features.

“I’ve changed too much. Leave it be!” Obito snapped, but Kakashi stole the mask back with his other hand and held it behind his back with a taunting grin. Obito lunged at him and the two of them traded light blows before Obito seemed to get truly furious. He took out a kunai, panting heavily as his Sharingan flickered on, and crouched into an offensive position as if he were about to begin some insane battle. Kakashi rolled his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic,” Kakashi said, holding the mask out tantalizingly in front of Obito, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Obito scowled and stood up to snatch it back, but Kakashi pulled it away again before he could.

“KAKASHI!” Obito roared, dropping the kunai and curling his fists as if he were about to start a fistfight. Kakashi let the mask sway between his fingers, then tossed it across the room. He could see Obito about to desperately leap for it, and he leaned forward to whisper one quick word into Obito’s ear.

“Fetch.”

Obito froze, and Kakashi could see him struggling between the desire to go for the mask and that stubborn streak he had when it came to listening to what Kakashi told him to do. Yep, the things that made Obito himself were still fundamentally the same. In the end, as Kakashi had predicted, his stubborn streak won out and he crossed his arms to shoot that famous Obito Glower at Kakashi.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this so goddamn much, you immature freak,” Obito muttered. Kakashi nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, I am. I’m quite pleased to see I’m still good enough to make you wear that expression.”

“I knew you did it on purpose, I _knew_ it!” Obito snarled, squinting at Kakashi with one dark eye. Haa. He also didn’t know the difference between when Kakashi was being serious or teasing, which made for a whole world of fun. Kakashi hadn’t had so much fun since… well, since the old days with Minato. Or maybe it would be more correct to say he’d had that _much_ fun, just not that quality of fun. Somehow, getting Obito back was like getting a piece of his childhood innocence back. It changed… everything. No matter how it had happened—and that was something Obito still refused to tell him—Kakashi was glad the universe had conspired in his favour for once.

“Obito, you know…” Kakashi scratched the back of his head sheepishly, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. In the end, he decided to go with blunt and straightforward, since Obito probably wouldn’t pick up on anything else. “If you want your other eye back, I’ll give it to you.”

Obito’s face flashed from angry to incredulous in an instant, and Kakashi waited for the inevitable explosion. He didn’t know exactly what Obito’s reaction would be, but he had a feeling it would be angry. He was right, of course, though not for the reason he’d expected.

“Is my eye not good enough for you now? Are you so confident in your abilities that you don’t need a Sharingan any longer? You’re an even bigger fool than I thought, thinking you don’t need it!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that it’s rightfully yours,” Kakashi pointed out to stop the tirade. Obito seemed poised to continue for a second, then suddenly deflated, his single eye going far away as he shook his head and lowered his voice.

“Not anymore. I gave it to you, so it’s yours now. It’s a part of you.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re a part of me?” Kakashi asked, nodding sagely as if he’d figured out the answer to the world. Obito blinked rapidly several times, then took a few steps back and held up his hands as if he were expecting an attack. Kakashi shook his head, chuckling, then turned to finish packing his things up.

“You still shouldn’t go,” Obito muttered from behind him, but it seemed like Kakashi had finally won out over Obito’s protestations.

“If you’re that worried,” Kakashi yawned, slinging his bag over a shoulder. “You can come along. The kids'll love you and I wouldn’t mind.”

“How many times do I have to tell you _I’m on the opposite side?_ ” Obito hissed, but Kakashi could sense his indecision on the matter. Well, the idea was planted in his mind now anyway.

“At least one more,” Kakashi said with a slow wink, perching on his windowsill. Front doors were overrated, and you had to walk all the way down the hall then down the stairs. He knew Obito would do it though, because Obito couldn’t resist doing things the proper way even if he was ‘on the opposite side.’ With one hand lifted in a languid farewell wave, Kakashi leapt from his window and left Obito grumbling away in his apartment. The last words Kakashi heard were “…guess I’ll have to go after all, then.”

\---

Sand made a cloud overhead and began to rain down in countless clumps that distracted Naruto long enough for Gaara to catch his feet in an iron grip. Since he wasn’t using as many Chains now, his being caught also gave Hinata an opening to attack offensively instead of defensively, and she spun to break more Chains before flowing right into Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms. Gaara was awestruck at how quick she was in dodging both Chains and the swings of Naruto’s massive chakra-absorbing sword, but he didn’t have time to hesitate.

Working in tandem with her, Gaara had his sand manifest one of Shukaku’s hands, which came up behind Naruto so Naruto was boxed in on two fronts. With one hand occupied by the sword, there was no way he could a jutsu, either, so he would have to take damage from one of the attacks. Gaara had expected Naruto to look at least slightly worried at this point, but instead he rolled his eyes, cut off his Chains and began doing seals with one hand. Well that was new. And very, very bad.

Hinata caught sight of the movements and tried to stop them, but an arc of electricity threw her back as Naruto used a technique Gaara had never even heard of. Hinata landed on her knees, stunned and probably numbed from the electricity, and Naruto used his sword to slice through Gaara’s sand hand, absorbing chakra so the sand crumbled back to dust with ease.

While he was doing that, Gaara lunged forward to scoop up Hinata, skirting Naruto and sliding to the other edge of the roof. Setting her behind him, he sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that this finished it. That this didn’t finish it. That this killed Naruto. That it didn’t. And the true power of the desert, of fighting on his own territory, rose up behind him, beside him, and in front of him. Hundreds of thousand of tons of sand made a dome that blocked out the sky, and Naruto sneered.

Using every last ounce of his chakra, Gaara controlled a veritable ocean of sand and sent so much after Naruto that the sword and Chains were completely swamped, even their chakra-stealing properties made useless. He kept it flowing to a centralized location around Naruto, swirling, churning, and flooding until there was a pillar of sand that stretched higher than the eye could see. His strength waning, he forced a force of nature to curl around his best friend, sweat striping lines down his cheeks.

“Gaara,” Hinata said quietly, laying a warm hand on his arm as she stood and looked at the formidable, writhing monster of a thing in front of them. “If you hold him there long enough, he’ll run out of air and pass out. You don’t have to kill him.”

“Don’t… have enough… chakra…” Gaara panted. Just holding Naruto for these few seconds was sapping everything he had, and if he didn’t use Sand Burial now Naruto would surely escape. For the sake of his village, he had to…

A sudden strength flowed into him and he turned his head a fraction to see Hinata, her brow wrinkled in concentration and her teeth working her lower lip as she let her chakra flow into his. He had no idea how someone who wasn’t a jinchuuriki could share chakra like this, but the loving warmth that diffused through him gave him a strength he wouldn’t have been able to find on his own. Their combined chakra held Naruto in place, making his efforts futile, and Gaara’s heart felt like it could beat again. If he could hold Naruto here just a little longer, they could win this without anyone having to be hurt.

“Gaara,” Hinata managed to get out, her voice rough with exertion. “That kunai… is it…”

Gaara saw it a second too late. He moved to destroy the paper seal wrapped around it, but Naruto was abruptly where the kunai was, a fist flying towards Hinata. Gaara moved in front of her but since the majority of the sand was in front of him the block wasn’t enough and Naruto’s fist went through the sand. The chakra-infused knuckles cracked even Gaara’s armour, and he was sent flipping away as all of the sand he had used to trap Naruto came crashing down in a roar.

It spilled over the roof like water, and Gaara’s tenuous control of it was the only thing that kept him from spilling over with it. Naruto and Hinata both used chakra control in their feet to stay upright, and Hinata began throwing punches that Gaara knew even avoiding wouldn’t help. Naruto seemed to realize it too, but his sword had been swept away and Hinata was moving too quick for him to conjure Chains.

In the end, it came down to taijutsu, and this taijutsu wasn’t a matter of simply trading blows. Naruto had to deflect both of Hinata’s hands before they could get near any of his vitals, and Hinata only had to give him a few glancing blows to defeat him. Gaara struggled towards the two of them, no longer able to open a path for himself, and they fought like lightning and quicksilver.

Hinata threw one jab towards Naruto’s head and Naruto used his elbow to block it, trying to do hand signs with his hand. Hinata didn’t give him time—her other hand went straight for a tender spot under his ribs and he was forced to use both hands to stop her from getting too close. He had to slap every near-blow away and he was managing that, but it was clear he was on the defensive. A whoosh of air, the loud slap of skin on skin, a grunt, a quick gasp. It wasn’t a loud fight, but Gaara’s senses were so in-tuned to what was going on that every sound was a gunshot against the constant waterfall-like roar of sand.

The quick exchange ended when Naruto brought his knee up to block and was swept off of his feet by the sheer volume of sand. Gaara reached Hinata and they lost sight of the blonde, coming to a halt at the edge of the roof to watch sand flow into the streets like a tidal wave, taking vendor stands, stair railings, and crates. Luckily, the inhabitants of Suna were used to windy sand storms, so although windows rattled in their frames and some stone porches were almost completely filled in, not a single structure fell.

Panting, Gaara and Hinata pounced from the building, landing among the settling dunes and looking around as doors began to open and sleepy villagers peered out curiously.

“Stay inside!” Gaara called out sharply as one little boy stumbled out into the street, which was now a foot higher than usual. Doors snapped shut as people hastened to obey, but a figure clutching an immense sword rose up from behind the boy. The boy turned around, his eyes stark with horror, and raised his hands as the sword came down towards him.

It paused a few inches above his head.

“Go,” Naruto commanded, and the boy nodded mutely, tears streaming down his face as he turned to stumble into his mother’s arms. Naruto watched the mother scoop up her son and rush away with narrowed eyes before turning back to Gaara and Hinata.

“A life for a life,” he said with a yawn, only the tremor in his hands belying any emotion. “You could’ve killed me but you didn’t. That boy is your reward.”

“Lord Gaara!” a voice cut in, and Gaara turned his head a fraction just in time to see a bolt whizzing towards Naruto from behind. Gaara opened his mouth, maybe to warn Naruto, maybe to warn Baki, but the bolt struck before he could warn either of them. Naruto moved a fraction left and caught it in one hand without even looking. He spun it across his knuckles, and Chains wrapped around it. Then he spun and threw Chains and bolt together at the torsion siege engine that had launched it.

Baki, Kankuro, and a few other Suna shinobi leapt out of the way as the siege engine exploded into pieces, shrapnel injuring one ninja so bad he fell from the roof and was saved only by Kankuro’s chakra threads. Naruto barely gave them a glance as he spun back and let his sword fly from his hand towards Gaara. Gaara and Hinata dodged opposite ways as it sliced through the air towards them, but the sword seemed to have a will of its own as it curved and caught the edge of Gaara’s cloak. In… teeth?

Gaara came up from a roll and tried to shake the sword, but it wrapped itself around him and he felt traces of panic as it began absorbing his chakra and making a sound like a chuckle. He’d had barely any chakra to begin with, so the massive drainage he experienced brought him to his knees. Hinata leapt in front of him again and there was a thump as Kankuro landed in front of the both of them, two puppets ready to fight the only other puppet master Kankuro got along with.

“Stop,” Gaara called out, as he slumped forward onto the sand. Baki landed behind them a second later, running to Gaara’s side along with a few reinforcement ninjas, and the rest of Suna’s shinobi took up offensive and defensive positions around Naruto.

“Don’t worry, Lord Kazekage,” Baki said as he slid along the sand to kneel by Gaara’s side, the marks on his face standing out in stark contrast to the worried pallor of his skin. “We’re all here to save you. He won’t get through us.”

“Baki, order everyone to stand down,” Gaara rasped as he felt himself grow even weaker. He was flickering in and out of consciousness, but he had to do this one thing.

“We can’t—”

“You can’t beat him,” Gaara whispered as five shinobi tried to pull Naruto’s beast sword off of Gaara. The thing growled and began to absorb chakra even faster, hastening Gaara’s entry into unconsciousness. “For the good of the village, please listen.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you!” Kankuro cried out, risking a glance over his shoulder. Naruto was distracted with more bolts being fired, and he was methodically destroying every siege engine Suna had with quaint little flicks of his wrists, taking down tons of Suna’s ninjas along with the engines. Gaara’s eyes searched for a sign of Chiyo, but she was nowhere to be found. If things kept up, the Sand would be left not only with no Kazekage, but also with no defense if anyone else decided to attack them. There weren’t many with Naruto’s monstrous strength who could fight on equal footing with people used to the sand, so other villages usually didn’t attack. If they heard about Suna being destroyed by one ninja, however, evil villages like Orochimaru’s little Oto could come crawling from the woodworks to poke around. Or even good villages who needed to destroy rivals in the economic crisis caused by the Akatsuki.

“The village needs you,” Gaara breathed out as the five trying to pry the sword off of him went boneless from lack of chakra. “I don’t see Chiyo but… this was planned. If she’s… gone… we’ll lose all of our defense… to Naruto…”

“The village needs _you!_ ” Hinata said desperately as Naruto took out another summoning scroll. “We all need you! You’re the heart of this place!”

Gaara ignored Hinata’s pleas to fix Baki with as determined a glare as he could manage. Baki had done things in the name of the village that no one else had dared, gone farther for his love of Suna than anyone else. Gaara knew he still regretted participating in Rasa’s plan to destroy Konoha—regretted killing the kind, formidable kenjutsu master who had been set to oversee the third part of the Chuunin Exams—but if push came to shove he’d probably do it again. His loyalty was to Suna, not just to the Kazekage, and that was precisely the reason Gaara had chosen him to be a council member.

“We…” Baki began, his voice faltering as a brief grimace crossed his face. As Gaara’s previous sensei, he knew Gaara better than almost anyone in the village, both Gaara’s light and dark sides. It meant that he didn’t want to let Gaara be taken, but he also knew Gaara wouldn’t change his mind in this matter. “We’ll regroup and send who we can after you. Stay alive until then.”

“No, dammit!” Kankuro yelled, and Hinata echoed the sentiment, but Baki waved the remaining Suna shinobi off. There was hesitation in everyone’s movements, but in the end they all obeyed unquestioningly, perhaps knowing where the order truly came from. Baki looked like he was planning to do something as stupid as stay to fight, and Gaara gave the slightest shake of his head. With his lips pressed in flat line and his face set in grim determination, Baki nodded back and leapt away.

“No matter what, we won’t leave you,” Kankuro swore, his teeth gritted as Naruto began to stride towards them, a gleaming khakkhara in the hand that had once held his sword. His movements were soft and easy, and his silhouette could almost be that of a peaceful monk coming to offer a blessing. If you didn’t know any better. The three people standing up against the silhouette knew better.

Kankuro attempted to attack Naruto with the puppets, but Naruto was quicker than even before, destroying them with an ease that left Kankuro open-mouthed and trembling.

“H-how… Their weak spots…”

Naruto swung his khakkhara from a few metres back and, impossibly, it extended to swipe Kankuro off of his feet. Before Kankuro could get back up, Naruto was already on him, bringing the low end of his weapon up in a snap under Kankuro’s chin. Kankuro’s chin jerked back and his eyes went dazed before fluttering closed.

“No…” Gaara managed to get out, but everything was blurry. His head hit the sand and he couldn’t even look up to see the fight between Naruto and Hinata. He saw Hinata’s feet move into a defensive position, heard the sound of her fingers striking the cold metal of the khakkhara. Naruto’s feet blurred, kicked up sand that had Hinata grunting out a soft curse as the grains got into her beautiful lilac eyes. Then the blunt end of Naruto’s staff jerked up from the ground and hit something with a sickening crunch.

Hinata collapsed, eyes closed, blood trickling down her forehead. Naruto’s feet continued past her without the slightest pause, only coming to a halt when they were right in front of Gaara. Gaara raised his head slowly one last time, eyes skimming a dark cloak, black nails, and the long hilt of a monk’s staff. They touched on a necklace made with nine magatama, then went higher to a face shrouded in shadow. The necklace, the hair spiking towards the sky, the jingling of the rings on the khakkhara… for a second, Gaara’s confused consciousness thought this was a mural of the Sage of Six Paths come to life.

Then a hand reached for his face, Chains plinking all around him, and he thought no more.


	5. The Warmth of the Sun

“I wish I could come with you,” Ino sighed, laying her head against Sai’s chest and closing her eyes as she embraced him one last time. Sai, Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi were all at Konoha’s gates, packed up and ready to go, and this was the last goodbye they had to say. The other three lounged around outside of the gate to give Ino and Sai privacy, chatting up Kotetsu and Izumo, while Sai pretended this was a long, sappy conversation.

“I do as well, but you have a way to contact me and I need you here,” Sai murmured gently into her hair, making it look like he was saying sweet nothings. “Tsunade doesn’t have the pull to get Danzo kicked off the Council yet, and I know he’s planning to make some sort of move soon. Your connection with the Konohagakure Intelligence Division is the only thing keeping him from doing anything. He knows you have an eye on him.”

Ino had followed in her father’s footsteps after hearing what Sai had to say about Danzo, and she was now in a high enough position to keep watch on him. Everyone had debated telling Inoichi about Danzo’s involvement with Orochimaru, but in the end they’d decided Inoichi might try and check with Fu Yamanaka, who was a Root member.

Sai didn’t know Fu well, but he had a feeling the man who was more loyal to Danzo than almost anyone might not take well to the questioning. Plus, there was the curse seal on his tongue, so even if he tried to confess it wouldn’t go over well. Sai sent his thanks to the universe that Danzo hadn’t put the curse mark on him, thinking he would blend in with school children better without it.

“This is the longest you’ve been away, and if both you and Kakashi are gone, the only other person he thinks can stand against him is Tsunade,” Ino said, pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear. “Do you think he’ll move while you’re away?”

“Most likely,” Sai whispered back, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t know what it’ll be, but since it’s only a matter of time until we find some way to take him down, it’ll be drastic. Stay close to our friends, and if anything happens let Yugao know immediately. She’ll support Tsunade.”

Ino nodded as they stepped away from each other, her eyes steely with determination. They hadn’t been able to risk telling anyone other than Tsunade, but Ino had the support of Teams 8, 10, and Guy’s Team, plus the Anbu if it came to that. Where the rest of the village would fall Sai had no idea, and he hoped they never had to find out. If it was Danzo, however, he knew that eventually his worst fears would be confirmed.

“Are you coming or what?” Sasuke called in annoyance, while Kotetsu and Izumi chuckled. Ino and Sai exchanged a meaningful glance that only Sakura caught, then Sai bent down to place a lingering kiss on her lips. He had a very bad feeling about what would happen while he was away.

“Come home safe,” Ino said as she let him go, stepping away and crossing her arms with a saucy arch of an eyebrow. “And make sure you do the Yamanaka name justice.”

“Don’t I always?” Sai asked with a grin, hefting his pack on his shoulders as he joined his team. Ino followed him to waggle her fingers at Sasuke and give Sakura a parting fist-bump, the two girls sharing a look that Sai couldn’t begin to decode. The fact that their rivalry had turned into an easy friendship was one of the most frightening things Sai had ever experienced. Forget Danzo, jinchuurikis, Sharingans, and monsters. Sakura and Ino teaming up on him had quickly shot to number one in his ‘List of Things I Never Want to Happen.’

“Shall we get going?” Kakashi asked, reaching into a pocket on his jounin vest to pull out the newest book in the Makeout series. The rest of Team 7 relented, and they all began following Kakashi as if he were still their sensei, sharing tired looks as the guy who was supposed to be the most mature of all of them thumbed through porn.

\---

Chiyo stretched her abilities and body to the limit as she battled with her grandson, avoiding his poison-tipped tail and sending her puppets after him in a deadly dance. The puppet he hid inside was full of tricks, undermining her every move and providing incredible defense and offense, until she wondered whether she’d ever be able to find an opening. But she hadn’t been labelled a legendary puppet master for nothing, and as she kept her onslaught up she found the tiniest spots in Sasori’s defense that could only be noticed through combat.

Even though the puppet he hid in was intricately, lovingly constructed, it was unable to hide the weaknesses it had around its joints. She allowed Sasori to think he was controlling the battle for a little longer, then used her puppets to attack every weak spot she’d noticed at once, hearing satisfying cracks when they struck where she’d intended them too. In the process, she lost three of ten puppets, but it was worth it when Sasori’s fake body fell apart and left him exposed.

She was going to kill him. She couldn’t kill him. She _had_ to.

Her heart aching even more than her body, she sent all seven remaining puppets after her grandson, who stood, blinking languidly, from the remains of what he’d constructed. Blades struck his body and he curled in on himself like a ragdoll, jerking with each blade that pierced through him. When it was finished, she expected him to collapse, his serene gray eyes losing their light, but instead he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“Shadow Clone!” Chiyo gasped out, cursing that she hadn’t thought of that before. Of course he’d have time to make a Shadow Clone while his puppet was breaking, obscuring her visibility. Yet she hadn’t expected him to make such a move, so dependent as he usually was on his puppets.

“You never have been able to see the real me,” a smooth, low voice said from behind her, and she felt the tiniest pinprick of a kunai before she pushed her aging body some more and leapt away, bringing a puppet behind her with more speed than she’d used the entire fight. She heard Sasori grunt as the puppet’s sword sliced at him, and then she spun to see her true grandson scowling as a section of his dark robe fell away. Chiyo could only stare.

“Can you now?” Sasori asked, straightening from his crouch and reaching up to pull the rest of his cloak off. His body was… his body… Chiyo’s vision went blurry with tears and she pressed her shrivelled lips tightly together to keep from crying out. This was beyond anything she would’ve ever expected. She’d known Sasori had fallen into darkness, but she’d never expected anything close to this. This was… madness. Insanity.

Chiyo sent five puppets after Sasori as he stretched out puppet hands, his joints creaking even louder than hers as if he’d aged a hundred years, and sent streams of fire at them. With her other hand, she brought out another scroll to summon two more puppets. The ones she’d wanted to give back someday, when her true grandson returned to her.

Sasori’s puppet body showed no emotion as she summoned his Mother and Father puppet, and his attention stayed completely focused on the Chikamatsu puppets. When they sliced through the fire with their blades, he made an annoyed sound under his breath and reached up to open a compartment in his body. Where was his _heart_ , the one that had beat so sorrowfully when he’d watched parents play with their children? The one that had beat in time with careful brushstrokes as he stayed up late in the flickering light of a candle, painting his father’s features onto smoothed wood?

Chiyo trembled, her vision going even blurrier as a mass of puppets blotted out the moon, hiding the dark stains on the sand around them. She would not win this fight.

One hundred puppets attacked her nine, and she used the seven Chikamatsu ones to carve hole through the hundred’s ranks. She kept the Mother and Father puppet close for defense, but it no longer mattered anymore, not really. The kunai that had pricked her must’ve been filled with some sort of poison, because her knees grew weak and her vision grew progressively worse.

Her Chikamatsu puppets faltered as she dropped to her knees, panting, and then they dropped off altogether as she tried to focus only on defense. She was too old, and too alone, to do any real damage to Sasori. She waited for the feeling of a sword carving through her torso, closing her eyes and bringing the caricatures of her son and daughter-in-law close so she could die with at least some feeling of being near them. Everyone she had left was cold, no blood coming from a heart to warm their skin.

It took a moment for her to realize that the darkness in her eyelids had lessened into a pale blue, and when she cracked them it took another moment for her to realize why. The hundred were gone, disappeared somewhere as only one traced a lonely path towards her. She could’ve sent Mother and Father then, but she was too scared. She was too scared to die alone, and she was too scared that Sasori was too. If she passed away before him, who would he have to see him to the grave?

 _He’s a puppet,_ _Chiyo_ , she tried to tell herself. _Your grandson died a long time ago, and this thing before you is an imposter._

It didn’t work. Despite the body, the gentle face, serene eyes, and quick steps were all his. As Sasori’s eyes flickered warily between Mother and Father, Chiyo decided that she may as well be selfish in the end. She could attack Sasori and have his last memories of her be her trying to kill him, or she could pull the puppets closer to her and open a space for Sasori to approach her. Instead of doing what village loyalty would dictate, she picked the latter option. It wasn’t like Sasori would allow her to kill him, anyhow.

Breath coming in quick, shallow rasps that sent pain radiating from her lungs throughout her body, Chiyo closed one eye and fixed Sasori with a sad, solemn gaze. He stopped in front of her and knelt down on one knee, studying her face with a detached interest.

“These things happening to you… the pain, the aging, the struggling to breathe… You have the craft to do as I did. So why didn’t you, Grandmother?”

Chiyo shook her head, one wrinkled, arthritic hand slowly rising up. Sasori flinched as she lay it against his cheek, but he didn’t pull away like she’d expected.

“Can you feel the warmth of my hand, Sasori?” she asked gently, looking into familiar eyes. “I’ve been wondering that for a long time. The answer I’ve come to is that you can, no matter how hard you try not to.”

Sasori’s lip curled contemptuously, but his puppet body betrayed him. The fingers that touched Chiyo’s hand were shaking as they made to tug it away, but then they paused as if seeking the warmth she spoke of.

“I know you better than any puppet I’ve created, better than you know yourself. I was worried I was wrong, but you’ve changed again, haven’t you? The old you, Sasori of the Red Sand, would’ve killed me without hesitation.”

“You know nothing of me,” Sasori snapped, but Chiyo reached up with her other hand to put a hand on his shoulder and struggle to her feet. Sasori stayed kneeling below her, his face a mask of fury and some other emotion as he avoided her eyes.

“You’ve done horrible things, Sasori,” Chiyo whispered, tears gathering and spilling down dry skin. Sasori finally looked up to see them, and the tears that dripped from Chiyo’s chin landed on him, tracking down his puppet’s cheeks and leaving wet streaks in the dust. Then Chiyo’s knees gave out a second time, and she collapsed.

Sasori caught her in one arm, his lips flattening into a thin line. Before she could say anything else, he reached into the storage unit built on his back and pulled out a vial. He uncorked it with his teeth to reveal a syringe tip, then brought it down to plunge it into Chiyo’s arm.

“Why?” Chiyo asked simply, looking at a puppet and seeing a man.

“Repayment for the medicine you’ve been providing me. I only needed to weaken you so you couldn’t heal tonight, and I believe I’ve done that,” Sasori said quietly. “This is the last time you’ll see me, Grandmother. After tonight we’ll have no more transactions.”

Chiyo closed her eyes and smiled through her tears.

“It isn’t like you to keep someone waiting,” she whispered. She felt Sasori stiffen, but she forged on. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for my grandson to come home? Twenty-four years and sixteen days. I’ve been counting every second.”

She opened her eyes to see a ghost of something pass over Sasori’s features, and he seemed at a loss for words.

“Tonight, I’ve finally caught a glimpse. I am still waiting though, and I will wait for as long as it takes. Whether you come or not, I will be at the usual meeting place every month.”

“Don’t,” Sasori hissed, desperation tinging his voice. Chiyo wondered if he’d come. If he’d be able to resist not coming. Then, before he could say anything else, Chiyo made a second selfish decision that night and let her mind fall into a peaceful, hazy sleep.

\---

Sasori stared down at his grandmother, who slumbered peacefully. He still didn’t really understand why he’d given her the only cure he’d had on him, but the thought was pushed from his mind by her statement. _It isn’t like you to keep someone waiting_. She was baiting him, right? Saying ridiculous things needlessly because she wanted to cling to her existence? Yet she’d cried, shed tears that he could’ve sworn he’d felt roll down his own cheeks, and her eyes told him she honestly believed he was coming back.

Setting her down on the sand gently, Sasori stood and cast his gaze back at the Sand Village. A place he’d once considered home. Walking from it now, an unconscious Kazekage floating in Chains behind him, was a person he considered part of his new home. Naruto’s face was as grim as Sasori’s felt, and Sasori didn’t even bother to make a quip about Naruto keeping him waiting while they fell into step beside each other.

“Is everything alright?” Sasori asked quietly, eyeing Naruto from the side. The side of Naruto he could see was creased in misery and pain, things that would surely leave lines when he was older. Sasori didn’t find the lines as repulsive as he once had, however; they looked hard-earned.

“No. Is everything alright with you?” Naruto asked in the same tired, low tone of voice Sasori had used.

“No,” Sasori said dully, and the two of them continued walking the path the moon illuminated for them.

\---

The paper crinkled in Yugao’s hand as her fingers made a tight fist around it, shaking just slightly enough for no one to notice.

“I thought this should be brought to your attention,” Tsunade muttered around her hands, which were folded thoughtfully in front of her mouth. “Our hands are full with missions now that your Team 7 has gotten the Fire Daimyo to stop giving them to the Akatsuki, and we have no able-bodied jounins left to deal with it. It isn’t exactly Anbu material, so you have every right to say no, but you’re the only one I can ask right now. Can you spare a team to help the Kazekage or not?”

Yugao closed her eyes behind her mask, fighting back a wave of nausea. For the past four years, Yugao had forced herself to look to the future Hayate had envisioned, training Sai and watching over Team 7 as they grew in exceptional shinobi and good people. She was as proud of the three of them as she’d be of her own children, and teaching Sai had soothed her aching heart. So it went to reason that she had tried not to give thought to the circumstances of Hayate’s death four years ago. Not until now, when she had a letter written in the hand of his killer resting in her palm.

“Lady Tsunade, the Sand Village has confessed to certain crimes I’m sure Yugao doesn’t want to dreg up,” Shizune piped up, her face worrying as she glanced at Yugao. Everyone had heard that Baki confessed to Hayate’s murder, but people didn’t bring it up. After an initial outcry demanding his death, everyone had fallen silent when Gaara defended his actions, saying that he was only following orders. Yugao hated the Kazekage for that a little, though she kept it hidden deep down.

“It’s fine,” Yugao said shortly, letting the letter fall to Tsunade’s desk as she stood up straight. “Most of the Anbu are on missions too, but if need be I’ll go myself. I can bring some of our chuunins along if that’s alright with you.”

“I appreciate it,” Tsunade said with a nod, rifling through files on her desk before she found the one she was looking for. “Kiba and Shino are the only chuunin not out right now since Hinata is already at Suna visiting. I’ll send them along with you then have whoever I can go after you when they return.”

“Very good. I’ll prepare for it, then.”

Yugao turned to leave, but before she could push the door open Tsunade’s gentle, kind voice spoke to her back.

“Will you be okay?”

It sounded so much like something Sarutobi would say that Yugao’s eyes prickled. The Third Hokage’s absence was another ache, though Yugao thought the new Hokage was just as incredible as the old. She missed his mild, insistent voice instructing her to follow her heart and not let being an Anbu get in the way of love. Not that she could imagine loving anyone else after Hayate, but she thought maybe he’d say something about learning forgiveness even in a situation like this.

“I think I will,” she said cautiously. To her surprise, she found it wasn’t a lie.

\---

It took almost a full day of travelling for Naruto and Sasori to reach the cave where Pain would summon the Gedo Statue, just inside the Land of Rain. It wasn’t their usual hideout in the Land of Wind; this one was more somber, deeper into the cave where barely any light could reach. As they came out into the open cavern where Pain had set the statue, Akatsuki members began appearing on the tips of the giant statue’s fingers, looking like claws dipped through a rainbow. The only ones in their normal forms were Pain and Itachi, who gazed down at the returning members with unfathomable looks.

“You’ve done well,” Zetsu purred from where his form stood, flickering like a sputtering candle. Naruto had no idea where the white half of him had gone, but he’d been all black for a long time now. The look that Itachi shot the dark form was withering, before his gaze returned to Naruto and looked almost… disappointed. What the fuck was that all about? He’d done his mission, hadn’t he?

Itachi seemed on the precipice of speaking, but Naruto cut in first, taking a few steps towards the finger Pain perched on.

“Nag—Pain.” Naruto knelt down respectfully, something he’d never done before, and a hushed murmur ran through the Akatsuki members. Pain held up one hand for silence and motioned for Naruto to speak. “I know I have other missions to carry out as soon as this jinchuuriki’s Tailed Beast has been taken, but I think I’m strong enough to do them with slightly less chakra than usual.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Hidan called in exasperation, shifting his scythe as he glared down at Naruto. As Naruto’s next escort, he was apparently less than pleased that Naruto was doing something off script.

“It means I want to try and save Gaara,” Naruto said in an adamant tone. There was silence, then Hidan burst out laughing as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Itachi tilted his head curiously, and Zetsu bristled, looking furious at the mere suggestion.

“I’ve heard that Uzumaki chakra can save an Uzumaki from dying when their Tailed Beast is extracted. I don’t know if it’ll work for someone else, but I at least want to try. During the days the One-Tails is being extracted, let me give Gaara my chakra.”

“Absolutely not!” Zetsu growled, pouncing from his finger and landing in front of Naruto. “Letting him live will cause nothing but problems. People will begin thinking the Akatsuki is soft, he’ll reveal our base, and your lack of chakra could become a problem in the future.”

“What Naruto is saying makes tactical sense,” Itachi interjected, also leaping from his finger. The rest of the Akatsuki followed suit, some of them indecisive and some of them evidently disagreeing. “Letting the Kazekage live is to our advantage; the Fire Daimyo and others have stopped taking missions from us. The Wind Daimyo is still using us, but if we make such an obvious move against the Land of Wind’s largest village, he’ll likely find it too risky to continue associating with us. Letting the Kazekage live is an act that will ultimately help us. We’re less likely to be villainized by the entire Sand Village if we give him back.”

“And they’ll find the statue. Does it not cost an enormous amount of chakra to move?” Kakuzu asked, looking satisfied when Pain nodded, as if that was the end of the discussion.

“If we keep him unconscious the entire time, he won’t be able to find our base!” Tobi burst out. “I mean, especially if Naruto’s using his Chains, won’t the Kazekage just be sleeping the entire time? Pain, please, please agree. I wanna be able to keep eating dumplings in Suna; they make the best daifukus in the whole wide world!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard, hm,” Deidara muttered.

“Your existence is the stupidest thing I’ve—”

“Enough,” Pain said sharply. “As everyone has very strong opinions on this matter, we’ll put it to a vote. That way no will be able to argue the decided outcome or claim that it wasn’t fair. Are we clear on this matter?”

“As a bell,” Tobi said happily while Deidara glowered at him. Naruto felt his heart contract nervously as Pain called for the vote, asking for all those in favour of Naruto’s idea to raise their hands. Itachi, Konan, Pain, and Tobi all raised their hands, frowning at the five who had yet to vote. Naruto’s breath hitched in his throat as he glanced over at Gaara’s prone body, still wrapped in Chains. Was this really it? Would he really have to let Gaara die like this? Itachi began to raise a protest, but Pain cut him off and asked for people against Naruto’s plan to vote. It was just a formality, but the outcome was surprising. Deidara, Zetsu, Hidan, and Kakuzu all voted against it, but there was one person who had still neglected to vote.

“Erm… Sasori, my man, you have to pick a side,” Deidara pointed out, as everyone regarded the puppet master curiously. It wasn’t like him to keep anyone waiting, even in a vote.

Sasori, who had been unusually silent through the whole ordeal, looked weary at the mere thought of being the deciding vote. He was harshly practical, always picking the most logical side and disregarding emotion when it came to any decision, so Naruto fully expected him to vote against. Yet his eyes darted from Gaara to Naruto, and when he finally spoke his voice sounded distant.

“Let Naruto do what he wants. If he has a chance to save someone important to him, he may as well.”

It was so uncharacteristic that no one could react immediately. Naruto was the first to move, throwing his arms around the man and clinging to him in gratitude as Sasori waited impatiently for the hug to be over.

“Thank you,” Naruto whispered, and Sasori relaxed marginally, reaching up as if to pat Naruto on the back. Instead he used his hand to disentangle himself, but the look he gave Naruto was… warm. Understanding, as if he knew exactly what it was to have to hurt someone you loved when you didn’t want to.

“Then it is decided. The rest of you, begin the sealing. Naruto, do as you will.”

At Pain’s command, forms flickered and disappeared to the fingers again until only four people remained on the ground.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay with Naruto and keep an eye on the proceedings,” Itachi said with a deference most people in the Akatsuki didn’t bother showing.

“Of course,” Pain agreed easily. “It'll take slightly longer to complete the sealing without you, but I have no qualms with that. Ensure that he doesn’t use too much. And Naruto…”

The Rinnegan of his older cousin turned on Naruto, and Naruto felt like somehow his soul was bared.

“…Be careful.”

There was more behind those words than Naruto could interpret, but Pain left to his finger before Naruto could question it. Sasori, Itachi, and Naruto watched him leave before Sasori turned to leave the cave and make sure no one could interrupt the proceedings over the next few days.

“Wait!” Naruto yelped as the puppet master strode ahead with long, purposeful strides. He caught up to the redhead and Sasori arched one eyebrow in question.

“I’m totally grateful you helped me, don’t get me wrong, but… why? It’s not something I’d ever expect you to agree on.”

Itachi looked like he wanted to hear the answer as well, and Sasori turned for a moment to where the exit of the cave was. Faint rays of sunlight peered through the darkness, highlighting dusty air and making flecks of ground-up minerals sparkle. The three Akatsuki members left on the ground watched the sparkling air drift lazily, unstirred by any outside or inside influences.

“Because sometimes I think I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face,” Sasori replied softly, his entire face pensive. With one last nod in their direction, he left the cave to walk where the sunlight would beat down with a harsh but necessary heat.

Neither Itachi nor Naruto said a word after that as they lay Gaara in front of the statue, Naruto sitting at Gaara’s head and placing a hand on either side of his temples. Naruto let his chakra flow out as the Akatsuki began the sealing technique, closing his eyes as Gaara's back arched and the Kazekage started letting out pained moans. Itachi stayed by his side the entire time, his hand on Naruto’s shoulder providing an anchor for Naruto’s heart and soul.


	6. The World is Cruel

“Settle down, settle down!” Iruka called out as kids pushed and shoved each other, laughing as they packed up to leave for the day. Everyone had been rowdier than usual, and Iruka was left completely exhausted, his patience frayed to the max. What was going on today? Sure, word had spread that the Kazekage had been kidnapped, but the kids usually just brushed off what was happening in other countries with the unaffected air only people who didn’t understand could have. Today, though, every lesson had been a chore since his students insisted on whispering to each other.

Shuffling the papers on his desk and sighing tiredly, Iruka began getting himself ready to go as well. He wasn’t paying too much attention to what everyone was talking about until he heard the Fifth’s name, and then he perked up, wondering if he’d get a clue of what was going on.

“—and she’s too weak to defend the village! I mean, if the Kazekage got kidnapped, don’t you think it’s only a matter of time until they come after the Hokage too?”

“For sure! But I heard she has barely any chakra and she drinks all the time. She’s the worst, definitely not fit to be Hokage.”

“Hey!” Iruka called, shocked at what he was hearing. “Lady Tsunade is incredibly strong, much stronger than any of us. She’s one of the Legendary Sannin!”

The boy who’d originally spoken made a face at Iruka, but the other two he’d been speaking to looked slightly shamefaced, as if they’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“We just heard Fu Yamanaka saying it,” the girl of the trio muttered, and the other two nodded in agreement. Iruka frowned as they slunk out of the room, wondering why one of the Yamanakas would go around saying Tsunade wasn’t fit to be Hokage. As far as he was concerned, she was a fantastic leader. She’d been working hard the past few months to help the village’s economy, dredging up missions and actively searching for people who needed help. Without her, the village might’ve sunk into a financial depression.

Finished with his packing, Iruka drew a deep breath in through his nose, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Well, that settled it. Tomorrow’s lesson, which was supposed to be about the Sage of Six Paths, was now officially going to be on the state of Konoha’s economy and how being poor would affect the entire village. Maybe that would teach his students how incredible the Fifth was, put a little appreciation into them.

Lord knew Tsunade deserved it at least once in a while.

\---

“So just how far is Kumo?” Sai asked as they approached the Land of Fire’s borders. Sasuke knew a lot about geography, but Kakashi had said there was no way they were going through the Land of Frost because it was way too cold. Now Sasuke threw Kakashi a curious glance too, wondering where the silver-haired jounin was planning to take them. As far as Sasuke knew, the only way to Kumo was through the Land of Frost.

“About a week away, give or take. We’ll be going through the Village Hidden in the Hotsprings—Yuga—then taking a boat to the Land of Lightning. We should get there a few days ahead of Naruto and his companion at the very least.”

“I hope Gaara’s okay,” Sakura murmured, looking worried. Sai nodded unhappily and Sasuke silently agreed, wishing there was a way to find out how things were going in the Sand Village. He had no idea where Obito was, either, so it wasn’t like he could get an update that way. Kakashi, noticing Sasuke’s frown, reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out, offering it to Sasuke with a cheeky grin.

Sasuke accepted it and then snapped his eyes to Kakashi’s with a glare.

“I’m not interested in porn,” he said sourly.

“There’s a real storyline in there, though!” Kakashi offered, sounding amused. “Somewhere. Someplace. If you look really, really close.”

Sasuke’s glare was withering, but it didn’t seem to bother Kakashi in the slightest as he turned his attention back to his own book. With a small sigh, Sasuke cracked the pages and began reading. It was trashy, full of sex, and made hardly any sense, but it was something to do so Sasuke read on while Sakura and Sai stifled laughs.

When they finally reached Yuga, they were all surprised to find guards posted near the arched entrance. As far as Sasuke had heard, Yuga had distanced itself from other Hidden Villages and taken on a peaceful identity as less than a Hidden Village and more of a simple, non-shinobi village. Outwardly, it still looked peaceful—it had no walls surrounding it, the streets were filled with villagers dressed in expensive silks and sturdy shoes that screamed wealth, and there was a relaxed aura that Sasuke had never seen in a village before—but a strained population of guards every few metres ruined the illusion.

“Halt!” one of the guards called, sweating under armour that looked completely out of place. “State your business.”

“Just passing through,” Kakashi answered, casually slipping his book away and sliding his hands unthreateningly into his pockets as he stepped forward. “Maybe looking for a boat.”

At the sight of Kakashi’s Konoha headband, the guards all relaxed and the air didn’t seem as thick anymore. Sasuke narrowed his eyes, sharing glances with his teammates, and Sakura stepped up beside Kakashi.

“What’s going on, anyway?” she asked. “I’ve never heard of guards being posted here. I thought this was a place of peace.”

“Damn Jashinists are trying to recruit our kids again,” the guard nearest to them snorted. “They get in people’s heads, make them think our way of peace is wrong. Last kid they took… Well, never mind about that. You seem like kindly folk, so pass through as you may.”

“Thank you,” Kakashi said with an incline of his head, and they continued their journey, Sasuke hoping they wouldn’t end up meeting one of these ‘Jashinists.’ Cults were annoying as hell, always trying to force their beliefs on you, and Sasuke had very strong opinions about people who tried to force weird beliefs on you.

If he met up with a Jashinist, it would be bad news for them.

\---

One day later, Yugao watched Kiba and Shino greet Sand ninjas, their eyes anxiously roving faces for anyone they knew. She hung back as they began shoving through throngs of people look lost and shell-shocked on the sandy streets, bolting down the main street and coming to a skidding halt at the injured line of shinobi medical nin were trying to look after.

“Looking for Hinata?” a boy with purple face-paint asked. He was struggling to sit up against medical nin who kept pushing him back down, and he looked more anxious than almost anyone else. “She’s fine, just knocked out. Over there.”

He pointed her out and her teammates ran to her side, dropping beside her unconscious body and questioning medics for information. Yugao’s eyes left her fellow Leaf villagers to take in more of what the Suna villagers were doing, and she was surprised to find real pity within herself.

A mother clung tightly to the hand of a little boy, the two of them weeping over a man whose face had been badly injured by shrapnel. A young girl wove her way throughout the makeshift cots villagers had made out of clothing and sheets, bringing water for everyone who needed it. Weary medics slowly transported the injured to the hospital, looking as if they were about to pass out from how hard they were working. Anyone who wasn’t helping with the injured were digging piles of sand away from doors where people were pressed, staring forlornly, at windows because their doors were blocked.

Though the setting was different, it reminded Yugao of how the Leaf had been after Orochimaru’s attack. Despite this being the village responsible for Hayate’s demise, Yugao felt no satisfaction in watching people sob over loved ones moaning in pain. They weren’t Suna villagers in that moment; they were just scared, hurt people.

“I’m glad Konoha was able to spare someone,” a hollow voice said from her side, and Yugao turned to find herself face-to-face with Hayate’s killer. Her lip curled in disgust under her mask, for a second seeing only a hard, stone-like shinobi. Then her expression slowly relaxed as the eyes trained for seeing past emotional deception saw things they didn’t really want to.

Baki looked as bone-tired as everyone else, guilt weighing his shoulders down and sorrow making him age beyond his years. He looked dead on his feet, as if he couldn’t take a step more, and the golden skin ninety percent of Suna had was yellowed, smudged crimson markings making the colour look even more sickly than it should.

“The Fifth will be sending more as soon as she can,” Yugao answered coolly. She didn’t like this man, but she could no longer find it in herself to truly hate him. His eyes kept going back to his people, tightening every time he saw tears streaking lines down dusty faces.

“Thank you,” Baki murmured, swaying and pressing a hand to his face, smudging his markings more. “We truly appreciate your—”

He collapsed to his knees and Yugao instinctively stepped forward to grab his shoulder so he wouldn’t sprawl face-first into the sand. He whispered out another grateful word as Yugao called over more medical nins, and as they took him away Yugao wondered why she hadn’t asked him if he knew who she was. Obviously he wouldn’t have had any way to know that Hayate had a lover, but somehow when imagining confronting the man, she’d always seen herself demanding whether or not Baki knew who she was. Someday, maybe. Someday, but not today.

Yugao went to Kiba and Shino and, after making sure the young Hyuuga woman was alright, had them start to help out the medics. They protested, of course, their hot young blood making them want revenge for the people who had hurt their comrade, but she insisted. It would do no good if the medics started collapsing as well.

If one of the Akatsuki members could do this, she knew it would only cause problems if they went after the entire Akatsuki without backup. The thought made her shudder; she’d given Anbu’s Team 7 the mission of stopping the entire Akatsuki, but even with their skills, it seemed an impossible task. She’d had no idea they were _this_ strong.

To stop her thoughts from taking even darker turns, she began helping everyone alongside people she’d convinced herself she hated. Her emotions felt clouded, some of them sorrowful and some of them angry, but all of her anger was directed inward. Thinking like that wasn’t how Hayate had wanted her to think. He’d believed hatred was a cycle, that it only led to more hatred. For him, she would shove away the hatred until all that remained was fond memories of the man she loved, and an acceptance that sometimes war made good people do bad things.

With that in mind, she comforted children, mothers, and fathers. She helped bind up wounds the best she could, though her medical knowledge wasn’t extensive. She carried people to hospitals, began taking the lead for some of the more tired Suna leaders. With her direction and the Sand’s willingness to do whatever it took to help their comrades, they managed to get the worst of the injured into the hospital and make better cots for those who wouldn’t fit.

Then they buried the eight Anbu members who had been guarding the village’s entrance when they’d been attacked. The members’ bodies had been found near the unconscious body of one of the village’s elders—a puppet master and one of the best healers in the village—but the woman had yet to wake up to tell people what had happened. Not that it mattered much; it was too late for any of the Anbu members.

“No,” a young woman was sobbing over a grave. “No, she promised me she’d come back! She promised! She can’t be dead, you don’t understand!”

Yugao hesitated, then picked her way over to the inconsolable woman some of the Suna Anbu members were trying to comfort. She waved them off to help with the headstones of the rest of the bodies, then crouched beside the young woman, who was kneeling in the dirt and pressing her hands against it as if searching for the earth’s heartbeat.

Yugao put a gentle arm around the woman, drawing her close, and after a moment the woman pressed her face into Yugao’s shoulder and continued crying, softer this time.

“I loved her so much,” she whispered. “Why did the world have to take her away from me? What did we do to deserve this?”

“I don’t know,” Yugao answered, her throat tight. “I just don’t know.”

\---

Genma shifted his senbon in his mouth as he leafed through the book Kakashi had gotten him as a birthday gift. He still didn’t understand the appeal, but some of the scenes were steamy enough to make the book readable, so he settled in at the Jounin Standby Station and read it as he waited.

“Can you believe we have to go help Suna when our own situation is so dire?” someone muttered, and Genma raised an eyebrow as Mizuki, who was now a jounin (bad idea in Genma’s opinion), sauntered in with another guy Genma vaguely recognized as Konoha’s oldest jounin.

“It’s ridiculous,” the guy—his name was Mokume, that was it—agreed. Genma abruptly closed his book, hoping the sound would bring their attention to him and they’d stop whining about the Fifth in front of him, but when they noticed him they seemed to get even more encouraged.

“Hey, Genma, don’t you think it’s stupid? That old lady sent us to grab you and head to Suna, but I mean, come on! We have our own missions to do, ones that’ll earn us some quick cash!”

“I’d rather you don’t insult the Hokage I’m loyal to in front of my face,” Genma sighed, earning two scowls. He could’ve stayed out of it, but he liked the old biddy who took in every angle of things. Keeping up relationships between the villages was just as important as looking after the economy, especially with a war between the villages and the Akatsuki looming just over the horizon. Besides, Tsunade had given Kotetsu and Izumi, two of Genma’s best friends, financial raises since they pulled shifts no one else wanted to. She’d used her personal budget that was supposed to be for fixing up her lodgings to do it.

“That’s—”

“Man, I keep hearing assholes badmouthing the Hokage,” another voice sang into the room, and Genma didn’t bother to hide an amused smirk. “It makes me wanna hit someone real hard, hearing people talk like that.”

Anko clomped into the room and the two jounin cowered with twin glares as the woman offered them a sharp, lethal grin.

“Good thing all of us jounin are loyal, huh? Now get your asses moving, we’ve got a mission to do.”

Genma stood and joined Anko, and after a moment the other two slunk after them. Mizuki and Mokume were weak enough that Genma wasn’t worried about their personal opinions, but the fact that they’d been talking so loudly and no one else had attempted to stop it was slightly unnerving.

\---

Yugao had been aiding Suna for three days when Genma, Anko, and two other jounins showed up. The village finally had a system good enough that people could work in shifts and not have to push themselves until they ended up in the hospital alongside the injured people they’d tried to help. The woman whose girlfriend had been killed had followed her around, hollow-eyed, and done whatever Yugao had asked. When Yugao had gently told her she could rest if she wanted to—that she didn’t need to push herself like an Anbu—she’d responded that she was helping Yugao because she could see Yugao knew the same pain as her. And that being with someone who understood helped. Yugao could respect that.

Now they stood side-by-side as the four Konoha jounin asked for something to do, and Yugao decided it was finally time to go after the ones who had taken the Kazekage. There were already Suna nin scouting for signs of where the Akatsuki could’ve taken him, but they hadn’t found anything.

“Does revenge help?” Yugao’s companion asked woodenly as she prepared to go back to helping her people.

Yugao shook her head slightly.

“At first, it seems like it will, but in the end I think it’ll just make things hurt worse. Even after… what they do, they’re still human.”

“You think the Akatsuki are human?” the woman snapped, fire flickering in her eyes for the first time since Yugao had met her.

“Isn’t one of them the grandson of a woman here?” Yugao asked. “Isn’t he loved by her?”

The fire died out, replaced by a sorrow that only come from a love that transcended everything else. If someone could love so dearly, they could also hate that way, but there was no hatred in this woman’s eyes. Only an acceptance it had taken Yugao years to reach.

“That sounds like something Kiko would say,” she whispered before floating off into a crowd. Yugao watched her go, then turned back to her comrades to discuss their plans. Her and Genma were just beginning to come up with a way to steal Gaara back without having to resort to fighting when something touched the corners of her consciousness, like a finger brushing aside a curtain. She shivered, her eyes going wide as she spun to the village entrance.

“Something wrong?” Anko asked, searching the entrance for any sign of someone. It hadn’t felt like a person, yet it had. Whatever it was, it was…

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” Yugao said, running towards the village entrance and leaving her comrades baffled. She was as quick as she could be, stretching her awareness out and finding that same disturbance.

She traversed through the gorge Kiko and seven other Anbu members had been killed in, searching with her senses for traps, but she found none. When she finally burst out into the wide-open desert, she found half of what she expected and half of something she could’ve never expected.

A woman with hair the colour of a midday sky and eyes the colour of dawn stood near the entrance, looking serene as anything while she slowly lowered the Kazekage to the sand.

“I thought I sensed another sensory type,” she murmured as she settled Gaara’s head down gently. Yugao had her katana in her hand before she knew what she was doing, her eyes narrowed behind her mask and never leaving the Akatsuki member’s face, even to check if the Kazekage was still alive. Her senses screamed danger, and she regretted her decision not to bring her companions along, but she could feel that the woman in front of her was _strong_. Maybe it was better she died here than all of them dying.

“Don’t move,” Yugao ordered, doing her best to sound authoritative. The Akatsuki kunoichi regarded her coolly, then stretched out one hand. Paper fluttered all around, obscuring Yugao’s vision, and she spun with her sword, slicing at it to keep it away from her. It was no use, however; there was too much, and soon Yugao’s mask had been sliced down the middle and was falling from her face. With the mask gone, Yugao had better peripheral vision, and she was able to defend slightly better.

Paper still sliced cuts into her cheeks, but she made sure no blood got in her eyes as she used her senses to search for where the woman had gone. Was she… the paper?

The paper came together and the woman materialized in front of her again, studying her almost curiously. Yugao kept her sword up, panting heavily, her eyes straining to check on the Kazekage even as she kept them on her enemy.

“You’ve felt the same pain as I have,” the kunoichi breathed, shaking her head almost sadly. “I have no desire to fight with you. Take the Kazekage and bring him to his people—I imagine they’ll be happy to see him alive.”

With that, she dissolved into fluttering white again, this time blowing out across the desert to disappear to wherever the Akatsuki holed up. Yugao stood there for a full minute, confused by this reaction and waiting to see if it was some sort of trap, but when nothing happened she sheathed her katana and ran to Gaara’s side.

His face shone with sweat, his lips were pressed together as if in pain, and his body shook, but he was still breathing and he was still alive. For a fleeting second, Yugao thought that this was her chance to get back at Baki—he cared about this person who was little more than a child, and if she hurt him Baki would know her pain—but then she felt ashamed and shook the thought from her head.

For whatever reason, the Akatsuki had brought the Kazekage home alive, and Yugao wouldn’t allow Suna to have to face the pain of losing their leader. Losing your leader in the same breath as losing your lover was too hard.

Slinging one of Gaara’s arms over her shoulder, Yugao stood and brought him home.

\---

“All went well,” Konan said as she appeared in the Gedo Statue’s cave. Naruto felt his heart shrink, then expand so large he was afraid his chest cavity wouldn’t be able to take it. He’d done it—he’d managed to mash both of his worlds together and not lose a single person. Gaara was alive, Sasori was alive, and the Akatsuki had the One-Tails. It gave Naruto more hope than he’d felt in a long, long time, and his thoughts immediately went to Sasuke. Was it possible that those two worlds, too…?

He shut the thought down quickly, because he wouldn’t be able to bear it if it turned out he was wrong. But the thought persisted in the back of his mind, making his lips unable to stop twitching. Itachi, for his part, looked immensely relieved, and he even hadn’t minded Naruto’s excessive hugging after the One-Tails had been extracted and Gaara was still alive.

“I’m proud of you,” Itachi told him now as Naruto hugged him yet again, then ran across the cave to grab Konan and plant a big, messy kiss on her cheek. She made a slight face at that, but it soon dissolved into a kind smile as she grabbed him under the chin and tilted his head down to place a kiss on his forehead.

“I must say, I’m proud of you too,” she murmured so only Naruto could hear. “Not only did you save your friend—you inspired me. I could’ve killed someone today, but instead of doing so I let them live. Because perhaps there’s hope, after all.”

“Do you think so?” Naruto asked, thinking of Sasuke again. Obito had even said Sasuke didn’t have a girlfriend as far as he knew. Not that that meant anything big, but what if…?

 _You shouldn’t be thinking like that, fucktard,_ Naruto chastised himself. _This world doesn’t matter. Whatever happens here will be made right again when Zetsu and I finish the Infinite Tsukuyomi._

As much as he kept telling himself that, deep down a small part of him insisted that it _did_ matter. It mattered very much.


	7. Ouroboros

“Fucking sun,” Hidan grunted, flipping the entire sun off as Naruto held up a hand and squinted into it. It was beating down with the white hot fury of a thousand… well, of a thousand suns.

“Same,” Naruto muttered, slouched over as if that could somehow stop the black Akatsuki cloak from absorbing every fucking smidgen of heat in the world. “At least you have your cloak open. I’m dying over here.”

“Then let us pray to Jashin!” Hidan yelled into the sky, getting revved up. “If we pray to him, he’ll surely deliver us some goddamn cold or something. Come on, man, as the only other Jashinist around I need you to help me out here.”

“Uh… Itachi said I really shouldn’t…” Naruto said, cringing at the outraged look on Hidan’s face. Hidan and Itachi had some _very_ conflicting views on how Naruto should be raised, which often ended with Hidan screaming unintelligibly in a genjutsu while Itachi glared the rest of the Akatsuki into submission so they wouldn’t interfere. Since Naruto was going to be going with one Akatsuki per mission, however, no amount of Itachi’s protesting could convince Pain that Naruto and Hidan shouldn’t do a mission. Even if Pain secretly agreed.

“He’s trying to get you to be a good little New God boy,” Hidan snorted, swinging his scythe in front of him and admiring the red that looked like stained blood. “Sage of Six Paths and all that shit. Jashin was around way before those guys, though.”

The other Akatsuki members all tended to ignore Hidan’s quips about his god, but Naruto took them seriously. After all, how else could you explain Hidan’s immortality? Sure, there were some jutsus that could help you live for a long time, and Sasori’s puppet body was a human construct, but Hidan’s body wasn’t a puppet and as far as Naruto knew, Hidan hadn’t done anything more than some rituals.

“Hey… just who is Jashin, anyway?” Naruto asked, genuinely curious and happy that he could freely ask the questions now that there were no other Akatsuki members around to hush him up. Hidan nearly tripped, his eyes sparkling as he began to walk backwards self-importantly, looking beyond pleased that he had someone who cared.

“Jashin is a god from the beginning of time, one who believes in the three points—thus the triangle in my rituals. The three points are death, destruction, and change.”

“Change?” Naruto asked. That didn’t sound like something too destructive.

“Of course, my friend! Lots of people think Jashinism is just an excuse to kill people, but they don’t fucking get it. The triangle is all about change, but the circle is the important part. It’s about time.”

Hidan grew almost thoughtful as he swung his scythe to cut a bunny in half, scooping up one of the halves and digging his finger into it. Naruto winced a little but watched curiously as Hidan drew Jashin’s symbol on himself, holding out his arm for Naruto to examine.

“The triangle with the circle—the three points within time—mean that there are certain points where change, death, and destruction need to exist for time to continue. Kind of an out-with-the-old, in-with-the-new, you know? To stop the population from getting too big and using up all of resources, we need a few calamities every now and then!”

“So… it’s like an Ouroboros?” Naruto questioned, already getting confused.

“Mm… sort of. You know how forest fires happen naturally every few years to make sure trees don’t sprout up everywhere and steal nutrients from each other? And then afterwards, the ground is super fucking fertile for everything growing in it? That’s Jashin’s work. Time leads to destruction, and destruction leads to creation! As Jashinists, we believe in helping it along a little.”

Naruto understood about half of that, but from what he understood he was duly impressed. He’d always thought Jashin demanded sacrifices because he was a crazy god who loved blood and war, yet Hidan had just painted a different picture. It was kind of like what Nagato always said—that people could only understand each other through understanding each others’ pain, so pain was necessary. Maybe Nagato was a closet Jashinist and he didn’t even know it.

“So there’s gotta be another god, right? If Jashin is the god of destruction, doesn’t there have to be one of creation?”

Hidan made a face, purple eyes narrowing as if this was a bad subject.

“Yeah, his consort, Yoishin. Creator, believes good deeds should be done because creation leads to destruction over time. They’re like yin and yang, but Jashin is way better. Yoishin’s a fucking piece of work, and if you’ve ever seen statues of them you’d see Jashin is cooler—he stands on top of Yoishin.”

Conversation clearly done, Hidan ran ahead gleefully at the sight of a farmer clopping down the road on a lazy horse. Naruto chased him, shaking his head with a small sigh as Hidan brought his scythe down in front of the horse, spooking it so that it threw the farmer from its back and bolted off down the road.

“Would you like to hear about our lord and saviour, Jashin?” Hidan cackled gleefully as the farmer raised his hands above his head and cowered into the dirt. Naruto wanted to protest, but the farmer reminded him of the people who had tried to hang him. There was something depraved in his face, in the hollow fanaticism of his eyes and the sallow unhealthiness of his cheeks, as if he dedicated himself to something so much that he forgot to take care of his own body.

“P-please, I’m just a farmer,” the man begged, and Hidan shrugged, arching an eyebrow.

“And I’m just a Jashinist. Titles, labels, who gives a fuck? Words are words, but beliefs are where it’s at. If you don’t share mine, too damn bad for you. Praise Jashin, motherfucker!”

Hidan brought his scythe down and ended the man’s life with a quick, easy slice that dissected the famer nearly limb from limb. Blood splattered Hidan’s face and he reached up with one thumb to take a drop from near his nose, putting it to his mouth and sucking the blood off.

“Thanks for the kill,” he said with a grin, bowing his head quickly before turning to waggle his eyebrows at Naruto.

“I swear, if that man was innocent…” Naruto began, but Hidan had spun back around and was marching ahead happily, not a care in the world. With a huff, Naruto ran to catch up to him, pausing for a second to study the ruined mess of a body. Out of a pocket still connected to the body Naruto could see a picture sticking out, and he caught the faintest glimpse of a little girl. No way. Had Hidan just killed someone’s father or grandfather?

Naruto reached down to pull the picture further out, and his breath got stuck in his throat when it was halfway out of the pocket. He wanted to vomit, and his fingers quickly released the photo as he stumbled back, turning to retch at the side of the road. Hidan paused in his skipping and strode back, glancing down at the picture Naruto hadn’t been able to finish looking at.

“Now I do some disgusting shit,” Hidan muttered. “But that… _that_ shit is the worst. I’ve seen that kind of stuff at the black market when I’m with Kakuzu dropping off a body. Makes me fucking _sick_ , I don’t care how you look at it. Even Jashinists have some self respect when it comes to that.”

“How do people let stuff like this happen?” Naruto rasped, his throat burning with bile as he ran a hand across the back of his mouth. “Why doesn’t anyone stop it?”

“Everyone’s too caught up in their own shit,” Hidan said with a shrug. “World’s a cruel place. Hell, you know that, people have done bad crap to you before. Not like that, obviously, but you were treated pretty terrible. If a strong guy like you has trouble defending himself, how in the name of Jashin are the weak supposed to do anything?”

Naruto shook his head, rapidly doing hand signs then sending a Fireball Jutsu out to destroy everything that the man was. Hidan watched this with a bored look, as if he’d seen it all before, then the two of them continued towards Kumo. Naruto’s head swam with what Hidan had said, about destruction, about the black market, about the weak not being able to do anything. He’d always believed the Infinite Tsukuyomi was the key to everything, but what would depraved humans like the one Hidan had just killed see in their dreams?

It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter! If it was just in their dreams, they weren’t hurting anyone, right?

 _For someone who thinks their plan is so clever, you sure haven’t thought this through_ , a voice that sounded like a mixture of Uchihas said.

 _Shut the fuck up,_ Naruto thought back vehemently. _I know what I’m doing_.

And what he was doing was arguing with the voices in his head, evidently. Great.

\---

Team 7 (plus Kakashi) finally reached the Village Hidden in the Clouds. It had taken slightly longer than usual, since Kakashi had claimed he’d wanted to scout around the village to see if there were any good ambush spots near it. Sasuke figured he was searching for Obito, but he said nothing as they searched fruitlessly for a place that would serve as a good spot to surprise someone. There were plenty of hidey-holes to chase someone into, but since Kumo was the highest point around there’d be no attacking from above. For the Konoha team, whose specialty was attacking from above, it was a pretty big disadvantage.

“I guess we’ll pick an inn and scout the village itself out tomorrow,” Kakashi yawned as they took their first steps into the new village. In many ways, Kumo was similar to Konoha—the people friendly but somehow looking ready for anything, the streets well worn by thousands of footprints, the landscape used to create structures in positions that would be strategically sound in times of war.

Yet this village had the same aura of wealth the Hotsprings Village had, with the structures built into rock looking just a little sturdier than in the Leaf, large, expensive windows running all around houses to give people a view of their streets, and gold lining the roofs of some buildings. The people were dressed slightly nicer too, and the rich, dark tones of some of their skin gave Sasuke a start. There were hardly any dark-skinned nin in the Land of Fire, and the only people who weren’t pale were the golden-skinned people of the Sand.

In contrast, there were all different tones of skin here, from a milky white that could rival Sasuke’s own to a near charcoal that contrasted prettily with the earthy mountain tones. To someone whose village wasn’t so racially diverse, this place looked like a collaboration of a bunch of different villages, and the result was that it felt more welcoming than almost anywhere else.

“Welcome, welcome!” a merchant called out, winding his way through the crowd to stop in front of the newcomers. He had a genuine smile, looking nothing like the slimeballs that populated most other cities. “Looking for a place to stay? May I recommend the Uroborosu Tavern?”

Kakashi accepted the recommendation, going over what type of inn it was and where it was before gesturing his former students onwards. Sakura had listened closely, and she soon lost herself in the city to speak with the locals about how things were run—she had a habit of doing that, liking to get a political, economical feel for things, since it was strategic and she found it interesting—while the boys went onwards. They finally found the place to stay at, and Sai bid Kakashi and Sasuke adieu as he left to find a gift for Ino, only having come to get a feel for where the inn was.

Kakashi and Sasuke were left standing together, staring at a building carved into a mountain and hoping there were curtains. At least, Sasuke was hoping the massive windows had curtains—who knew what kind of weird, perverted things Kakashi liked? Sasuke was just about to ask Kakashi how many rooms they were planning on getting when he caught a glimpse of the tavern’s sign.

Goosebumps crawled over his skin, his scalp prickling, as his eyes raked over the faded wooden thing blowing in the breeze. There were no words or anything really denoting the fact that you could drink and sleep here, only a rough picture stained messily into the oak.

 _They are near,_ a voice whispered into Sasuke’s ear, and Sasuke wasn’t sure if it was the wind or the same voice that had once screamed an unfamiliar name using his vocal cords. _My brother. Your soulmate. They are near._

“And you think reading porn makes me stand out?” Kakashi chuckled, and Sasuke was shaken out of his reverie to see people giving him long-suffering looks at the fact that he was standing in the middle of the street. Muttering hasty, disgruntled apologies, Sasuke moved out of the way and followed Kakashi into the odd, little tavern, taking care not to look at the sign again.

Ever since Orochimaru, he’d taken an intense disliking to snakes, and the obsidian one consuming its tail above the tavern was no different.

\---

_“Your brother did it,” an amused voice purred. The eyes the voice were attached to were wide, full of mirth that bordered on lunacy. “If you want to follow him into this insane cycle, this is the only way.”_

_“This is making a deal with the devil,” the human groaned, shaking his head._

_“Common misconstruction, that. The devil is a name humans came up with to personify hatred and consequences. There is someone like that, but I assure you it’s not me—my goal isn’t to destroy the entire world.”_

_The eyes bobbed in the darkness, then out of the black a face appeared, hands folded serenely under it as it fluttered dark eyelashes. The face could’ve been one of a boy, young and sweet with soft features, but there was something ageless about it. As if the boy could be anywhere between an eight-year-old and an eight-thousand-year-old._

_“I’m aware of_ that _, at least—I’ve met the devil. What I meant… It’s just a figure of speech,” the human sighed, rings on his khakkhara jingling as he brought it closer to himself as if for defense._

_“I’ve seen plenty of figures and plenty of speeches,” the boy laughed. “And that is the least accurate, if I may say so.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, let’s get to the point. This power you’re giving me—what’s the price?”_

_“The same price as any form of immortality—destruction.”_

_“Wait, are you saying I have to kill?”_

_“Of course not!” The boy’s face disappeared as he laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes when he next appeared. “For some, perhaps. For you and your brother, you must live on until the thing that caused your conflict is destroyed. You know who—the real devil. The one who lives as a consequence of what your grandmother has done. I am the one who chooses forms of destruction, not that imposter.”_

_The boy’s eyes shimmered dangerously, crimson glinting deep within them._

_“_ He’s _much too biased.”_

_The khakkhara was brought closer as considerations were made. The boy didn’t whisper into the human’s ear or try to cajole him, he only rested contentedly in the air with a catlike grin. It was clear that to him, this was an annoyance he’d like dealt with, but an annoyance was all it was._

_“My father—”_

_“And grandmother have been around for much less time than_ me _. Choose to search for an ending, or don’t. Either way, don’t waffle and waste my time.”_

_“Then I choose your immortality. I need to stop my brother, no matter the cost.”_

_“I think you’ll find your brother is nothing compared to him. Ah well, such is another price of immortality, though not one you owe me. Time demands much more than any god could, much more even, than the god of time himself.”_

_A hand stretched from the darkness, and Ashura Otsutsuki accepted it._

**_There was always a tree, and there was always a consequence, and that consequence was always hatred._ **

_“I’ll kill you!” Indra’s vessel screamed, and Ashura’s vessel met him in battle. The brothers snarled at each other as their vessels die._

**_There was always a tree, and there was always a consequence, and that consequence was always hatred._ **

_Six incarnations later, Ashura realized what the god of time and destruction had meant. He urged his vessel along, found Indra’s vessel, and this time peace between brothers was finally achieved. Ashura’s powers were fading and he was falling asleep more constantly in his vessels, but if both brothers could work together this time…_

**_There was always a tree, and there was always a consequence, and that consequence was always hatred._ **

_The devil had put two and two together, and every incarnation saw the brothers’ vessels fighting. Wars, massacres, betrayals, and brokenness rippled out as effects, cracking the world into pieces. The pieces—ideas that held the same core but were convinced they were separate—became Lands, and the devil smirked when he chose the most corrupted people he could to run those lands._

**_There was always a tree, and there was always a consequence, and that consequence was always hatred._ **

_Hashirama and Madara Uchiha were supposed to be friends. Ashura had roused himself enough to try to make contact with his brother, but the devil had already planted the seeds of conflict between the two clans. Ashura wept for Madara, and Indra wept for Hashirama._

**_There was always a tree, and there was always a consequence, and that consequence was always hatred._ **

_Naruto Uzumaki—_

_Sasuke Uchiha—_

_The devil in the form of a friend—_

“—consequence was always hatred!” Naruto screamed as he bolted up, his voice hoarse and choked as he fisted his hands into the threadbare blanket he’d packed for a mission.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Hidan roared, leaping from his spot on the ground so fast he nearly knocked the pot of boiled water onto Naruto. As it was, he stepped on an ember of the fire they’d built to set up camp, and he danced around for near a full minute, cursing creatively, before turning his attention on Naruto.

“Ow, fuck, Naruto, what the hell are you crying for?”

Naruto blinked blearily, reaching up to find his face wet with tears. He knew he’d had some sort of nightmare, but all he could remember was the feeling of deep sorrow and something dark staring at him unblinkingly. He shook his head helplessly as Hidan scouted the area, looking for something that could’ve made Naruto cry.

“I—it was nightmare, I think. There were these people, and something about a tree, and… a little boy?”

Naruto rubbed his tears from his cheeks angrily; it was so stupid to cry over something like this, especially in front of Hidan. Hidan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, then turned and ran off into the darkness without another word. Naruto’s mouth dropped as he watched the Akatsuki member’s retreating back; he’d expected Hidan to be awkward with crying, but running away? Man, he must really look pathetic right now.

It was still late and all Naruto wanted to do was sleep, but he felt too uneasy. With Kurama stirring agitatedly in his stomach and Hidan off doing Jashin knew what, Naruto couldn’t have gotten back to sleep if he tried. It sucked big time; they were only a day out from Kumo now, so Naruto wanted to be all rested up and ready to go for when he met up with Yugito Nii.

He was about to begin packing, resolved that they may as well move on, when Hidan finally came back. Drenched in blood, carrying a ninja over his shoulder.

“Uh…” Naruto didn’t really know what to say, but Hidan held up one finger, looking extremely proud of himself. Naruto frowned but watched and said nothing while Hidan began drawing a huge version of Jashin’s symbol out of the man’s blood. It took a while and a lot of gross sounds while Hidan dug deeper into the man’s body to get more, and by the time he was done Naruto sort of wanted to vomit.

“So… you did that because…”

“So you can sleep, dumbass,” Hidan laughed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As he spoke, he took the body of the shinobi he’d killed and began nailing it to a tree, speaking over his shoulder with a couple of nails in his mouth.

“You kept me up for a while with all your whimpering about trees, and I don’t want this to become a normal thing. If you sleep in there, though, Jashin’ll protect your dreams.”

Naruto looked between Hidan and the bloody symbol three times before he decided he was too tired to give a fuck anymore. With a grunt of gratitude, he crawled into the sticky mess and fell asleep almost instantly. It was the weirdest thing ever, but he had the strangest feeling that someone really was looking out for him, and for the rest of the night he only had dreams about recruiting people into Jashinism with a gleeful Hidan.

\---

Yugito dipped the nib of her pen into ink and began to write, the candlelight flickering over her features and casting her in a ghostly glow.

_Lesson Four: The History of the Shinobi._

Her hand paused above the paper as she reread the title thoughtfully, flipping her pen over and tapping it on her desk. She’d agreed to take over for a teacher who’d gone on maternity leave, and for the most part she’d been following the outlined lessons. This one, however, was chiefly glossed over in the curriculum, and in her opinion it was an incredibly important thing for the children to learn. It was usually ignorance of past mistakes that caused repeats of them.

Catching her lower lip in her teeth, she began to write again, only sighing a little as the waxy taste of lipstick filled her mouth. Rewriting next week’s lesson to the degree she wanted to teach it would likely end up with a couple of sleepless nights, especially since she was expected to carry out her duties as a jounin while she taught. Her day was an exhausting mixture of teaching, short missions, and trying to help kids with problems as best she could. She supposed she could cut out the latter of these, as it wasn’t exactly a teacher’s job, but she loved the children of this village. She loved this village in general.

 _Our history is troubled and difficult, but things are looking promising for this generation,_ she scribbled down, smiling softly to herself. _As long as we don’t repeat past mistakes, this can become an era of peace!_

She could already hear the groans of her students at how corny that was, and it made her huff out a laugh under her breath. Despite their protests, everyone still listened to her intently and respected her strength in a way she’d never expected, as if they all knew how hard she had worked. It made her heart sing, overflowing with love and pride for everyone in the village. Her home was the best place in the world; she hoped she could protect it till her dying breath.

Ignoring hands that itched for a shamisen—she’d play a traditional melody for her kids after explaining the history—she poured the bloody, war-ridden shinobi history onto page after page, hoping to do it at least some justice.

_And that’s why we fight, to protect this peace we’ve so tenuously achieved. Each and every one of you will someday defend this village the way I do, and we’ll take pride in doing so. Although none of you will be able to give your lives the way I will; after all, cats have nine lives!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm going to have to go on hiatus for a while because things are getting overwhelming and I just don't have the time to keep up with this right now. I don't know when I'll be back but I definitely will. Thanks for reading up until this point, as always!


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